Divided They Fall Together
by lucablue
Summary: Minnesota damaged them both, pushed them apart a little more. Set after BUABS
1. Chapter 1

**Divided They Fall Together**

**Summary:** Minnesota damaged them both, pushed them apart a little more.

Set a week after the events in Born Under A Bad Sign

_a/n: One email with some kind words from Deangirl1 at some point along the way stopped the delete button from erasing all trace of this story in a dark moment. Huh, the power of email!_

_Many emails from milkyway22 have allowed me to find my sense of humour and realise several things…_

_A torch to you may be a flaming stick but to me is a flashlight_

_Use of the letter s is not a grammatical error and I won't use z instead _

_You may not know but bleeding like a stuck pig is a bad thing_

_I am using miles and feet (under great personal suffrage!) 'cause that's what Sam and Dean use. _

_Yes I'm Australian._

_Hope you enjoy this – it is a WIP._

_lb._

**Chapter 1**

Sam Winchester balanced two Styrofoam cups in one hand as he juggled several grease stained paper bags in the other, a local newspaper also tucked firmly under one arm. He squinted as he stepped outside into the harsh Nevada sunlight, noticing the chill in the air bite through his jacket although winter was still several months away.

He headed for the Impala which was parked along the dusty kerb between the Death Valley Information Centre and the small coffee shop just outside Beatty that he had just exited. The dust which seemed to settle over everything had even dulled the car's normally polished exterior making it look tired and worn. He wondered briefly if he looked as washed out as the car 'cause he sure as hell felt like it.

It had been eight days since they had driven away from the events in Twin Lakes Minnesota. Since he had been possessed and killed Steve Wandell. Since he had hurt Jo and Bobby. Since he had shot his brother and then beaten him with his own hands. Beaten him with words that still echoed between them, in their thoughts and dreams.

It seemed like a lifetime ago but the wounds were still fresh in his mind and the burn still stung on his arm. The wounds were still showing on Dean.

Sam bent down to the open passenger window as he reached the car, noticing Dean had his head back and his eyes closed. He hesitated a moment, not wanting to disturb what appeared to be a rare moment of peace for his brother but Dean shifted and opened his eyes as if sensing Sam's reluctance.

"Are you getting in anytime soon Sam 'cause y'know coffee would be good hot."

"Thought you were sleeping." Sam somehow opened the door and got in without dropping or spilling anything in the sacred interior.

"Sleeping hmm, now there's a novel idea, might try it sometime." Dean straightened in the driver's seat and took possession of his breakfast. "After we get out of this God forsaken yet ghost free town."

Sam began eating and smiled at Dean's reference to the job they had just finished where the locals were almost more insane than the spirit itself. "I hear ya."

They had moved on from Minnesota both from a necessity to distance themselves from the scene but also because both of them needed to keep moving, keep working. It probably wasn't the healthiest of plans but it was the one they had both chosen, silently and unanimously.

Sam still felt strung out emotionally, guilt ridden and scared. It was too hard to look back and see the damage right now but that's all he could do. It was hard enough facing Dean every day, looking at the physical evidence of what had transpired, each cut and bruise on Dean's face a harsh reminder.

It was harder seeing the hollowness behind the steely green eyes that he knew he had caused when Meg had used him like some cheap puppet to hurt his brother. Sam had talked and Dean had listened to the lies of being worthless and not needed, not wanted. Then Sam had talked again and Dean had listened to his apologies, his argument that the words weren't his, but deep down he thought Dean still believed them.

What scared him maybe the most though was the fact that Dean hadn't fought. He hadn't fought to end it like he promised he would, to kill him if he couldn't save him. Dean hadn't even fought to save himself and Sam feared he would end up killing them both. If Dean couldn't save him, then Sam would bring them both down.

Sam settled back in the seat and opened the local paper, sipping the remainder of his coffee. "You want me to drive?" Already knowing the answer but still needing to ask in some roundabout way whether Dean was okay.

"Nah, I'm good." Dean drained the last remnants of coffee with a sigh. He knew Sam was asking a loaded question but he didn't really have the energy for an in depth discussion of his health or mental state right now. He felt beat and his shoulder still ached but seeing Sam's guilt-ridden glances hurt more. His own bruises and bullet wound would heal over time but Dean wasn't sure whether Sam would ever fully get over his remorse. Or his fear of turning evil.

Having finished with breakfast, Dean keyed the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. He would never tire of hearing that sound as though it somehow resonated on a frequency that was meant for him. It felt right.

"Hey check this out." Sam straightened, his brow creased in concentration as his interest was obviously roused in something on the page in front of him.

"Pregnant mother found mauled to death two days ago and her twelve month old baby's still missing, feared dead. Assumed bear attack."

"Well as much as it sucks Sam, shit like that does happen. What makes you think it's our kind of thing?"

"Well for starters the body was found inside, I mean that's pretty unusual for a bear attack. Then there's the dead fish."

"Come again?"

"Well it's a separate article but all the fish in Wilton Lake were found floating and there's no apparent reason so far. Both things happened in Baker County and both within a day of each other. They can be signs Dean, dead fish, dead trees, dead insects, dead…"

"Yeah I get the pattern Sam. Any of them can signal the beginning of – of something bad but it could also mean a polluted water supply or something entirely natural."

"I know but what if it's not, what if someone else dies?" Sam wasn't arguing, wasn't raising his voice, his tone more whispered than insistent. Fearful of making a mistake that might cost more than he wanted to pay. He felt like he had to make up for his mistakes, do his penance in the hope that it might somehow save him. The more people he saved, maybe he might not turn into something that would have to be hunted down.

Since last week these things seemed more important.

Dean glanced over at his brother, concerned at the sudden change in demeanor which had happened a fair bit in the last week. Sam had a point though, and it wasn't like they had anywhere else to be right now. Oregon was as good a place as any and it wasn't Minnesota.

"We'll check it out Sam. Baker County huh? I think it'll take a good ten - maybe twelve hours to get there though."

"Let me know when you want a break. I'm gonna check Dad's journal and if I can get some kinda signal I'll see if I can get any more details." Sam reached into the backseat and retrieved his laptop, glad to have something specific to occupy his mind.

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Sam stifled a yawn as he pulled off the highway, following the signs to the small motel, possibly the only motel in Wilton just inside Unity State Forest. It was just after 7pm, they had made good time – well Dean had made good time.

Sam had finally given up trying to get an Internet signal from a moving vehicle in the middle of nowhere and leafed through the journal instead. They had traveled in silence most of the way mainly listening to tapes as the local radio stations they came across were full of chatter. Neither had been willing to delve too far into any conversation at the risk of touching on any subject matter that had even the remotest chance of making them deal with everything they had just been through. Their pain. Especially their fears.

After nearly six hours of offering to drive, Sam had finally drifted off into a restless yet deep sleep and woke as Dean pulled up for gas. He couldn't believe his brother had driven for more than eight hours total and not tagged him for a turn behind the wheel.

Well actually he could believe it. Dean had done plenty of long distance driving stints but never with a healing bullet hole in his body. He looked at Dean slumped in the seat and decided to book a room before he woke his brother.

The cessation of movement and sound had woken Dean from his exhaustion. He saw Sam heading in the direction of the sign marked reception and noticed there were no other cars in the lot. He opened the door and swung his legs out, trying to stretch all the kinks from sitting too still for too long.

He felt numb yet he felt everything. He couldn't think straight but he couldn't keep the thoughts out of his head. He knew he had driven for too long – his aching shoulder was testimony to that simple fact. At least if he was driving he had a purpose, a simple goal of getting to point A or B in the shortest time possible. He could do that, no problem. It was all the other shit he was worried about – keeping Sam safe.

His brother seemed to take a while to return, and when he did he wore a distracted look on his face. Dean could almost see the light bulb glowing and the gears turning.

"What, don't tell me there's no rooms left?" Dean cast his hand around the empty car spaces.

"No we got a room and there's even a diner up the road but there's been another death. Harley, the guy in the office, was bursting at the seams to give all the gory details. The dead woman's husband Mark Reed, shot himself in the head 'bout two hours ago."

"Yeah well grief does things to people Sam, sometimes it all gets too much. Sill might not be our thing."

Sam paused, looking at his brother over the roof of the car as he tried in vain to read how much that comment actually meant to Dean.

"I get that." Sam spoke softly. "But grief doesn't normally make you run screaming down the street claiming to be chased by a woman with a lion's head who was trying to eat you."

"Okay." Dean nodded his head almost appreciatively. "So I guess we gotta job to do."

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The boys unloaded their stuff from the car, noticing with relief the room wasn't the worst they had stayed in, although the taste in furnishing came close. They had decided to get dinner and then do some research, figuring they couldn't do much 'till morning anyway. Both were beat though neither was admitting to anything.

They had walked along the road to the diner, seeing as Harley had indicated to Sam it wasn't far. Cougars. The sign on the outside of the modest looking building seemed out of place but there were quite a few cars parked outside. As the brothers entered, they were surprised to find a fairly crowded diner and bar complete with pool table and juke box.

Dean's face lit up for a second before he realised that he was in no shape to hustle or even play pool. However his expression remained positive at the thought of having a beer, or two, with dinner.

"You never mentioned there was a bar involved Sam."

"Well Harley didn't say anything about it, just said we could get a good meal here. I guess we'll soon find out."

They found a booth in the corner, on the side of the room that served meals, ignoring the curious stares from those they passed. As they ate they became aware that most of the conversations going on around them were about the recent deaths so they started listening in, trying to piece together bits of information they would never find on the web.

They heard a variety of gossip about the dead couple Janice and Mark Reed, ranging from rogue bear, sordid affairs, insanity and murder.

"So, ya both staying in town or moving on 'cause ya don't wanna take no notice of all these stories. Folks jus' ain't got nothin' better to talk about." The waitress, a girl in her mid twenties with a short skirt, a low top and Mindy on her nametag, cleared away their plates.

"We'll be staying a few days. Did you know the couple?" Sam diverted the conversation not wanting to give out too many of their details. Dean sat back and sipped his beer.

'Sure. They moved here 'bout a year ago, one of them sea change things they said, y'know get back to nature an' all. Janice is…was, in all the local women's clubs and worked part-time at the bookshop. Mark was a writer and he'd just started writing a new book, don't ask me what it was about though."

"You've got a bookshop in Wilton?"

Dean shook his head. Out of all the information that had just poured out of Mindy's mouth, Sam had retained that one fact.

"Yeah it's been here like forever. I mean the closest library is over in Baker City so it does good business. Bala the owner, also does painting classes and stuff. Listen I gotta work, you guys want anything else?"

The boys declined and left to walk back to the motel after paying their bill. Dean had also purchased a six pack to go from the bar on their way out, insisting it would help him research better. Sam guessed it was more to help him sleep better having witnessed Dean tossing and turning every night since they had left Bobby's place. He made no comment, hell he could probably use a drink as well but this was a new case.

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"Okay, so far we've got one dead woman mauled inside the house, we'll assume it's not a wild animal. A missing baby and a suicide victim claiming he saw a woman with a lion's head. Could be some kinda family curse, everyone has their secrets." Dean cracked open a can and leaned back on the headrest as he stretched out on his bed in jeans and t-shirt, socks, boots and shirt strewn on the floor.

"I guess but what about the dead fish? That would mean something bigger, something related to the area and if they only moved here a year ago." Sam shrugged.

"We should check out their house maybe it's something to do with the land or what's buried in it. Could be another salt and burn after all."

"I'll see what I can find out about the Reed's." Sam plugged his laptop into the empty phone socket, grateful for any internet connection at all. "Why don't you see if there's any entries in Dad's journal about lion headed women."

"Pretty sure there's not, I would've remembered something like that but what would tear someone up and then run off with their baby? We've gotta break this down to make any sense out of it Sam."

The room became quiet except for the rustle of pages being turned and the clicking of the mouse or keyboard. It was several hours and beers later when Dean realised he had read the same passage about four times and still couldn't retain what it said. He had moved on to one of the books Bobby had given Sam but still had nothing concrete to clue them in on what kind of hunt they were on.

"You got anything Sam?"

"Nothing on the Reed's 'cept the basics, no deep, dark family secret. The house they moved into just out of town doesn't seem to have any grim history either. The old guy that owned it sold it through a realtor, there's even a picture of it on the web. There's been a few deaths over the years, maybe more than normal round here but all I can I find so far is accidental or wild animal. The articles I found on the dead fish have ruled out any toxins or algae but the cause is still under investigation and the lake's off limits."

"Okay, it might be worth checking out the details but for now let's call it quits and get an early start. At least we've got a couple of dead bodies and crime scenes to cover that might shed some light on whatever this is."

Sam looked at Dean with a blank face. "Well isn't that just something to look forward to in the morning – dead bodies and crime scenes. God our lives are weird."

Dean gave a half smile as he removed his clothes down to his boxers and climbed into bed, draining the can of beer on the bedside table before his head collided with the pillow. "It's all a matter of perspective Sammy."

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Dean sank into sleep quickly, the beers doing their job well. However they didn't stop his body protesting restlessly after several hours as his mind slipped back into the darkness that he wouldn't allow during his waking hours. The nightmares were getting more vivid as the days passed, maybe his brain was finally trying to sort and analyse the events from last week even though he would much prefer not to go there. It wasn't Sam.

His breathing increased as he hit the wall not long after Bobby. He knew what was coming next as white hot pain tore through the fresh wound in his shoulder as Sam dug his fingers in deeper. As Sam enjoyed the pain he was inflicting. Not Sam.

"No." In his sleep Dean moved a hand to his injured shoulder.

He couldn't move let alone fight as he saw Sam's fist fly through the air, connecting with his face again and again. Not Sam.

There was something different this time as he listened to the cruel taunts coming from his brother's mouth. He felt the cool, hard metal of a gun in his right hand. He pressed it into his brother's chest over the heart. Not Sam.

Sam woke as Dean struggled with another nightmare, his brother's hand protectively over the bullet wound. As Sam watched, Dean seemed to cry out in pain but still didn't wake. Sam swung his legs off the bed and stood, leaning over his brother and seeing the sweat bead on his forehead in the dim light. He had woken his brother several times over the last week, and the last thing he really wanted to see was the pain and fear in his brother's eyes for those first few unguarded seconds when he woke. But he couldn't leave Dean trapped like this either.

"Dean. Hey c'mon wake up." Sam placed a hand on Dean's right shoulder shaking him a little.

As soon as Sam heard Dean's sharp intake of breath and felt the muscles under his hand tense, he knew he had startled his brother which was so not good. Sam started to stand, reflexively distancing himself but Dean's left hand shot up from underneath and connected quite solidly with his jaw, knocking him backwards onto the floor between their beds.

"No!" Dean's voice was horrified.

"Dean, it's me." He stood and reached over turning the lamp on and rubbing his jaw.

"Sam?" It came out more of an anguished sob than anything. "What…?" Dean looked around the room squinting at the sudden light "I…just, just a nightmare." Dean winced as pain flared through his shoulder and his knuckles buzzed from making contact.

"Some nightmare. You okay, wanna tell me about it?" Sam knew they were getting worse but he forced himself not to push too much. Not yet.

"Yeah, no. You okay?"

"Yeah but your nightmares are becoming a little hazardous to our health. You shouldn't be hitting things, including me with your left arm man, you're gonna do more damage. At least you didn't pull the knife on me." Sam grinned trying to get that look off his brother's face but not succeeding.

Or a gun. Dean added silently to himself.

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Sam had set his phone alarm for 6.30am and woke to find Dean already showered and dressed, sitting at the laptop. He sat up and clasped his arms around his knees, studying his brother with a look of disbelief. His hand unconsciously rubbing his slightly bruised jaw.

"Morning Samantha. "Bout time you woke up, I figured we could head on over to the diner and grab a bite before we do the crime scene thing."

"Dean, did you even go back to sleep?" Sam couldn't help his concern but wasn't surprised when his brother brushed it off.

"I slept, okay. You should know better than to wake me like that man, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that you sounded like you were in pain and couldn't wake up. What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know Sam, not that. Just… throw something next time."

Sam took a second then grinned at the suggestion. "You want me to throw something next time?"

"Only under extreme circumstances." Dean frowned. "Otherwise there will be retribution."

"Yeah, payback's a bitch." Sam muttered as he stood and headed for the shower.

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The boys drove the short distance to the diner this time so they could continue on to the Reed's house then try and talk to anyone who saw the suicide. With Sam navigating and Dean cussing the dirt road and what it was doing to the already tarnished finish on his beloved baby, they finally made it to the scene of the first death. Police tape fluttered across the door to the cabin style dwelling but that was the only sign that anything was out of place.

The distinct creak of the car door's opening and closing sounded alarmingly loud in the stillness and Sam winced as the peacefulness was shattered.

"Looks like the Reeds had the right idea moving here from the city. Nice little spot, nice cabin…"

"Yeah and nice grizzly way to die." Dean interjected as he crossed the tape and easily picked the lock on the front door. "Man what a mess." He added quietly as he pushed the door open and saw the wreckage and blood that still remained untouched.

"C'mon let's do this." Dean grimaced as he stepped over the carnage and then looked back to where his brother remained in the doorway. "Sam?"

"Yeah." Sam answered distractedly as he followed Dean.

"What's wrong with you? It's not like there are any bodies here Sam, we've seen a lot worse."

"That doesn't make it easier Dean. That shouldn't make it easier, we can't just get used to this as though it doesn't matter. A mother died here Dean and her baby's gone, they're not just bodies."

Sam's tone was almost fierce and Dean didn't quite know how to deal with this flood of emotion. Wasn't quite sure what had triggered this particular outburst although he had a whole list of possibilities - none of which he wanted to delve into or open up for discussion right now. He knew damn well who had died here - that was the problem, it was a little too close to home. Just because he was not going to let his emotions impair his judgment didn't mean he felt nothing. It just hurt that Sam seemed to think it meant nothing to him. Is that was his brother really thought of him?

"I know that Sam but if we're gonna do this job you're gonna have to deal with it." Dean's voice remained quiet, impassive. He walked further into the room, sparing only a sideways glance at his brother.

Sam heard Dean's words but it was the way they were spoken that really knocked him for six. God he was a jerk! Of course this wasn't easy for Dean, hell it was probably harder knowing how protective his brother got if any of their hunts involved kids. And now he had just accused Dean of not caring 'cause he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve.

"You're right Dean. I just, I'm sorry man I didn't mean…"

"This is all wrong Sam." Dean stood first looking down at the crude chalk outline of the body then rotating slowly in a circle, his eyes scanning the room.

"Yeah in so many ways." Sam couldn't help himself but Dean seemed focused elsewhere.

Dean advanced through the cabin his brother in tow as they surveyed every room. "Both doors intact, no windows broken and no damage 'cept for what we first saw – this was no bear attack. At least we know for sure now."

"There's still fruit and packaged food on the kitchen shelves so whatever it was, it wasn't looking for food."

"The furniture, it looks like it was all swept out of the way pushed up against the walls to clear a circle. The only cleared area is in the middle where…where the woman died. It's too organized for a wild animal or anything else I can think of for that matter."

"There's an awful lot of blood spilt here Dean but the um, chalk seems to show a whole body."

"We need to see it for ourselves Sam."

"I know."

_tbc…_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own it or profit from anything Supernatural._

_a/n: Still biting my nails nervously but thanks to those optimistic and encouraging reviewers. _

_lb._

**Divided They Fall Together**

**Chapter 2**

"Well so far so not good. These people are so friggin normal we've got nothing." Dean didn't even attempt to hide his frustration as he spoke, his hand cutting the air for emphasis.

The brothers walked back along the road past the dozen or so shops and diners they had already canvassed, flashing their fake US Marshall ID's for a little co-operation. It was late morning and so far everyone they had spoken to told them the same as the last.

"Yeah I get it Dean. Look we know Janice Reed was attacked in her own home and her baby's missing. Sam paused. "Maybe she's still…"

"Sam, c'mon man I don't think…" Dean shook his head but didn't have the heart to finish the sentence. "And then we've got Mark Reed, grieving husband one minute, ranting lunatic the next."

"Well at least everyone seemed to agree about the woman with a lion's head he was screaming about. If he did see it, it could only be some kind of hallucination right? I mean maybe something made him see his worst fear or …I got nothing."

"We've still got a couple more places to check before the morgue, including that bookshop that Janice worked in – and don't you go getting all geeky on me either Sam. A US Marshall would not be drooling over dusty old books or whatever else crap they have in there. Don't embarrass the badge Sam."

"Dean it's a fake badge and I'm not the one who gave in to pie at the bakery."

"Even a Marshall has to eat Sammy."

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The bookshop was their last stop, being as it was some distance up the road on the edge of the small town. The clouds had begun to darken the sky, threatening an afternoon storm and the breeze picked up swirling the dust from the road around their boots.

"Tell me again Sam why we didn't drive up here?"

"Dean it's only what, a ten minute walk. Besides, Mark Reed ran from this direction by all accounts and his car was parked up here by the bookshop. I thought maybe there might be some clue – never mind." Sam couldn't even convince himself with that argument so there was no point going on. He was just sick of being in the car but there was no way Dean would be able to comprehend that - short of Sam coming out and saying it. So not going there.

They walked in to the small shop which seemed to have been converted from an older style house. The greying sky cast little light through the front windows giving the interior a gloomy pallor. In all directions there were floor to ceiling wooden bookcases lined with books and publications of all sizes. A small desk with a computer and cash register sat just inside the door and looked quite out of place amidst the older style furnishings set around the rest of the room.

The boys wandered in and casually looked around the shelves waiting for the owner or salesperson on duty to make an appearance. Dean had walked a full circuit of the room and was coming back up to the desk when he realised that Sam was no longer behind him. Rolling his eyes he turned back the way he had come only to find himself face to face with a tall woman, dark hair spilling across her face and striking dark eyes.

"Can I help you?" The hint of a smile on her face.

Dean jumped but instinctively brought a smile to his lips as an almost defensive measure.

"I'm sure you can." Not exactly getting the response he was hoping for, or anything to work with for that matter he pulled his ID. "US Marshall ma'am. I'm Dean Scott and my partner over there somewhere is Sam Johnson." Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes again as Sam almost sheepishly came over to join them.

"I am Bala DeMeyer, the owner. I suppose this is about the poor Reed family, Janice worked here with me up until…" She stopped mid-sentence, tears welling in her eyes.

"I know this must be hard but we're trying to determine the circumstances surrounding her death. Was there anything unusual you noticed about Janice recently? Was she upset or nervous or acting differently?" Sam quietly entered the conversation.

"What? No, I mean wasn't she killed by a bear? Why would she be acting differently? She had a little morning sickness but that was to be expected. Why are you asking these things?"

"We don't like to assume anything in this line of work and so far we haven't found any trace of Yogi so we need to check all the angles." Dean ignored his brother's glare. "Did you know her husband or see him yesterday? His car was found not far from your shop."

"No, I didn't see Mark he rarely came in here."

"Isn't that a bit odd considering he was writing a book himself? I would've thought he'd be into all this kinds of stuff. Didn't he come and visit his wife?" Dean pushed.

"Not everyone appreciates old texts and history. Mark didn't like coming in here and he wasn't interested in the kind of books I have here." Bala shrugged looking at Dean. "He was writing one of those self help books not something I would stock."

"So I take it you two didn't get along. You think he was the type to commit suicide?"

"Well it really doesn't matter what I think now does it? The Sheriff said he shot himself so I guess he was the type."

Sam could sense the tension between his brother and Bala growing, not sure why Dean was pushing her into a corner when there really was no need. She was obviously still coming to terms with what had happened and was upset to be implied in their questioning.

'Thank you for talking to us Bala. Just one more thing, you said Janice had morning sickness. No one else mentioned she was pregnant." Sam's calming voice prompted the woman to focus on him.

"Um that's right. She wasn't far along, only a month or two I guess and she asked me not to tell anyone."

"Did you?" Dean face remained blank.

"No, no I didn't. She was a friend, I wouldn't…" The woman's hands flew to her face and she stumbled forward a step, tears now falling down her face. Dean instinctively grabbed her elbow, thinking she would fall but she pulled her arm from his grasp pushing away at him with her other hand, long nails briefly digging into his skin. She flinched and moved back trying to put more distance between them, as though afraid of what he would do.

"Just sit down a minute. It's a lot to go through." Sam spoke softly but his eyes tore shreds off his brother not believing how insensitive he was being. He had well and truly scared this woman.

"I'm fine but thank you." She spoke quietly to Sam, and then turned her head towards Dean without making eye contact. "Please, please just leave."

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They had reached the road in silence when Sam grabbed Dean's arm, halting his progress.

"What was that all about? What's gotten into you, she's just lost someone she knows and you're accusing her of what, being a part of all this somehow? The poor woman was scared of you Dean."

Dean faced his brother, shaking his head. He knew how it had sounded but sometimes the hard line had to be taken. Trust was not a luxury they had ever really had but especially not now. Not after last week. Truth was he wasn't sure about anything anymore but that wasn't something he was going to broadcast. Not to Sam.

"Sam do you really think a US Marshall is going to care about upsetting someone to get the facts? Anyway, you never heard of good cop bad cop? Maybe next time you wanna do good cop not girly cop."

Sam's jaw tensed but he was determined not to let this escalate into a full blown argument. He knew they were both still trying to deal. Each in their own way.

"Yeah, as long as next time you try bad cop not Terminator Two."

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Sam walked into the Sheriff's office trying to look the part – cool, confident but almost wishing he hadn't talked Dean into staying back at the motel. They really needed to see the bodies but there was no point in taking the chance that Dean's face was plastered up on the wall somewhere on a wanted poster.

He felt nervous, not really understanding how that could be possible. Being pretty much a wanted man and standing in the Sheriff's office with a fake ID strangely wasn't the problem. It was the thought of looking at the dead that had his stomach in knots, he didn't want to go in there. The last body he had seen was the hunter he had killed.

There was no way he could have let Dean know this might be a problem. The balance between them was at best tenuous at the moment and Sam didn't want to lose any more of his brother's trust. He didn't know how he would cope if he was shut out any further. On the surface it almost seemed normal but he knew they were both having trouble coping. Building walls was more the Winchester family legacy. He would just have to deal with this, get over it. Get on with it.

As he followed the young Sheriff through the building to the small morgue facility, Sam blanked his mind and steeled himself for the worst.

He wasn't disappointed.

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Dean opened the last can of beer as he sat down in front of Sam's laptop in their motel room. This was so not right. Again. He should be there looking at the body not playing geek boy. He opened up a browser and after a moment's thought started typing. Half an hour, then an hour passed and Dean still sat engrossed in the screen in front of him, stopping only to sip the now warm drink next to him.

Sam opened the door to their room and hurried over to his bag by the bed, surprised to find his brother using the computer.

"C'mon Dean. Looks like there's been another attack and the Sheriff needs our help."

"What? Are you crazy Sam? No don't answer that." Dean tried and failed to determine whether this was Sam's sarcastic side making an appearance.

"It's okay Dean I'll explain on the way. Trust me." Sam stifled the urge to flinch or laugh uncontrollably as he spoke those words knowing full well that trust was not something he really should be expecting right now. He didn't deserve to be trusted after what he'd done.

"Oh and by the way Sam I think I've figured out what we're hunting." He paused for dramatic effect as he closed the laptop. "Sekhmet! Creepy Egyptian woman with a lion's head."

"Yeah I've heard of Sekhmet but she was a God Dean. I don't know if…"

"According to my googling Sam, she was a fierce hunter with a bloodlust who was also known as, get this - Mistress of Dread and the Lady of Slaughter."

"Dean she was like a protector of women." Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Fine, how do we kill an Egyptian Goddess 'cause I don't remember seeing the notes for that in Dad's journal?"

Dean cast a glance at his brother before grabbing his keys and jacket and following him out the door. "Okay so where're we headed?"

Sam squinted at the map he had pulled from the glove box and indicated with his right arm. "That way. A call came in as I was leaving, a local guy living out in the forest had heard screaming. He found a blood trail but no body. Seeing as we're Marshall's an' all I volunteered our services – the Sheriff is kinda short handed."

"As long as he's looking for someone else and not us I guess we can lend a hand. Find anything on the bodies?"

Sam winced without realising. It had been bad and he had seen a lot but this - it had been bad.

"Well the husband had a bullet wound to the head, no surprise there I guess except there were scratches down his chest some from before and some from after he'd shot himself. The Sheriff has no idea about how they could've got there." Sam paused, making sure he was looking anywhere but at his brother.

The woman, Janice, it um…she had been pretty torn up but it wasn't a bear. It was like…it was like she'd been tortured. There were slashes all over but her wrists and her…stomach were pretty bad. The report said she didn't have much blood left in her body but the way she had bled out meant that she'd still been alive for a lot of it." Sam stared out the window. "It wasn't quick."

"I'm sorry you had to do that Sam. I should never have…we'll figure this out okay."

"Yeah."

Dean mentally berated himself as Sam directed him further away from the main road until they left the bitumen and were almost four wheel driving. Sam was taking this job way too hard and Dean could see his brother was off balance. Hell they both were, how could they not be?

The pain and confusion in Sam's eyes almost mirrored the turmoil he felt inside. Minnesota had certainly screwed them over more than either of them had cared to admit. He knew Sam now carried the burden of killing someone with his own hands even if both of them knew it was something else driving those hands. Every single death they didn't stop, now seemed to weigh his brother down as if he was personally responsible.

Dean could see Sam wasn't the same anymore, he could see the underlying fear and lack of what? Faith? At the same time he could see a new spark that seemed to have ignited from within his brother – the certainty that he had a darkness within him that would eventually surface.

Seeing that certainty within Sam was killing Dean. The jokes were just a smokescreen, an automatic defense mechanism on his part to avoid dealing. The reality was he may just have to save Sam from Sam. The nightmare was what would happen if he failed.

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After nearly twenty minutes of traveling on the dirt, Dean pulled up behind a solitary squad car. As they got out and started walking, Dean noticed another two civilian vehicles parked ahead. "So when you said short handed you meant what Sam?"

"Well, the Sheriff actually died not long ago. Natural causes." Sam added after seeing Dean's eyebrows raised. "The Deputy is temporarily doing the Sheriff's role due to lack of interested parties I guess and he's the only one stationed in this part of the county at the moment."

"Yeah course nothing ever happens out here right." Dean checked the gun in his waistband and patted his jacket checking for spare rounds. "You packing Sam?"

"Look Dean he's just a kid and he's not getting any help on this 'till next week at the earliest. He's just trying to do his best okay." Sam lifted his jacket showing his gun. "Salt rounds and consecrated iron."

Dean held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Okay Sam – we're already on the job anyway s'long as he keeps out of our way."

"Over here." A voice called out from inside the tree line and the brothers wound their way through the thick underbrush.

A young man in uniform, well muscled and tall but looking like he could have just stepped out of High School walked forward, his right arm outstretched in greeting.

"Thanks for coming Sam. I rustled up four volunteers plus Stephen who called it in but we've still got too much ground to cover." He shook his head, lines that shouldn't be there already etched into his too young face.

"Jayce MacIntyre, this is my partner Dean Scott." Sam made the introductions, praying Dean would remain wisecrack free. A least until they got out of earshot.

"Just call me Mac and thanks for coming out here. I was kinda hoping the cavalry would arrive and then lucked out when I got Marshall's passing through town."

Dean nodded his head in greeting. "We need to see where this blood trail is and what exactly was this guy doing out here in the first place?"

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After brief introductions were made, the small group split up into pairs at the urging of Sam and Dean. No one questioned their authority, even the young Sheriff defaulting his leadership without question to that of the US Marshall's expertise.

"Well that was kinda cool." Dean acknowledged as they set out.

"Yeah I just hope we didn't send anyone on a suicide mission."

"They wanted to help Sam and how were we gonna tell them to go home? Besides, they've all hunted out here before and know the territory which is a little more than we can say. They just might not be hunting what they think."

"Dean we don't even know what we're hunting."

"Yeah I guess the whole Sekhmet thing is a bit random."

Ya think. Sam didn't voice his opinion but his look summed it up quite eloquently to the one person who was adept at reading his body language.

"Well at least I…" Dean paused and caught Sam's eye, noting his brother had heard the same noise ahead. They both drew their weapons in sync and soundlessly crept forward.

The noise grew louder and as they approached, view still obscured by trees, it suddenly ceased. They froze as one, the silence indicating the possibility that whatever they were hunting had been alerted to their presence. As cautious as they were, they were still caught unprepared by the ferocity of the attack.

Dean watched in horror as a misshapen figure suddenly appeared behind Sam who was then thrown forward in the blink of an eye. As he frantically sought a target for his weapon he felt a crushing sensation in his chest that stole his breath then found himself flying backwards through the air. His progress was halted with a sickening crunch as he hit a tree. Blackness claimed him after a flash of bright pain. The effects of gravity laying him to rest face down and unmoving on the forest floor.

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Sam opened his eyes and bit back a surge of panic as he took in the ravaged body before him. Its mere proximity was enough to make his stomach lurch even before he noticed the pain in his leg. Not knowing if the danger had passed, he clumsily stumbled to his feet and staggered a few steps to the right where his weapon lay.

There was no sign of anything. No sign of Dean. Just this broken, mangled body. The body would wait, he had to find his brother. Gun still drawn, Sam limped back along his flight path. He could feel the warm wetness running down his leg and noticed his jeans were already bloodstained below the knee.

He scanned the area, finally catching sight of a piece of red checked flannel shirt unmoving on the ground. Shit.

Moving faster than his leg should have permitted he reached his brother's side and awkwardly knelt down. Still on the alert, he placed a hand on his brother's outstretched arm and shook him a little.

"Dean. C'mon Dean wake up man."

He looked down when he heard a groan and was dismayed to see the side of Dean's hair matted with blood. "Hey just take it slow okay. You've hit your head so just go slow." Sam, still reluctant to lower his weapon, guided his brother by the elbow to a sitting position. After checking their surroundings one last time he clicked the safety on and placed the gun in his waistband.

"What the hell was that?"

"What did you see?"

"I didn't get a good look but I saw something near you before you did your Superman impression. Did it hurt you?"

"No. I didn't see anything but I thought I heard a growl."

Dean's vision started to fall back into focus and he looked over his brother. "How bad's your leg?"

"I found the body." Sam spoke quietly.

"Show me. Can you walk?"

"Yeah Dean, can you?"

"Let's find out." Sam stood, placing most of the weight on his uninjured leg and grabbed his brother's outstretched arm, helping him to his feet.

"Oh man this sucks." Dean swayed for a moment as the pain peaked with the change in altitude, making his vision swim. He took a few deep breaths and nodded. "Let's do this."

They staggered along with Sam in the lead, each refusing to acknowledge their own injury yet keeping a concerned eye on the other. It didn't take them long to find the gruesome remains.

"Oh gross. Looks like it's fresh."

"Yeah but do you notice something strange Dean?"

"What, stranger than a mangled dead body in the forest?"

"There's no blood."

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Sam eased himself up from the bed, wincing as the deep gash in his leg was disturbed. Dean had placed a compression bandage on his leg over the top of his jeans once they had reached the car and it now lay in a sodden heap on the floor along with his jeans and boots.

"Dean I've got it, I think I can manage from here." Sam's voice betrayed his frustration as Dean hovered.

"You've lost a bit of blood Sam, are you sure you can manage a shower?"

"Dean you said it yourself, it's no use stitching it until its cleaned properly and this is the best way. I'll be fine." Sam looked at his brother's bloodied face and pale complexion. "You on the other hand might want to lie down before you fall down. Let me see your face, I still think you're concussed. And I'm gonna need to check your shoulder."

"Get in the shower Sam."

Sam grinned, turning his back quickly so his brother wouldn't notice his victory smile. The best defense was attack. Sam knew Dean must be hurting and at least this would give him a little time to rest.

"And you can wash that smartass look off your face while you're at it." Sam closed the bathroom door without further comment.

Sam turned the water on, rubbing a hand through his hair as he waited for the water to heat up. He tried to think of the commonalities between the deaths, they must be missing something. He thought back to the barely reigned in look of fear on the young Sheriff's face when they had met him back at their vehicles at the designated time.

Only the Sheriff and Stephen Oliver the retired logger who had called in the emergency, had been waiting for them when they reached the car. Both men looked disheveled and the Sheriff was sporting a bloody cut to the bridge of his nose. The other volunteers had not hung around for the after party having also been attacked by an invisible assailant and scared out of their wits. Thankfully none had sustained any serious injury.

As the shower soothed his bruised and tired muscles, turning the water red as it cleaned his bloodied leg, Sam tried to find the pattern in the jigsaw pieces they were holding. They had clearly disturbed something as it finished off its latest victim. Why hadn't it killed anyone else there today?

Sam toweled off quickly, putting on boxers and a clean t-shirt which soon became covered in drops from his still wet hair. He felt drained, as though the shower had washed his energy away along with the blood and dirt. He realised he was sweating and half closed his eyes against the sudden feeling of dizziness that had him bracing his hands on the sink for support.

He blinked as a sharp wave of pain hit him and everything became blurred. Sam knew in some vague way that he was falling but couldn't do a damn thing about it.

He was conscious of the slow motion feel to his fall as a dozen images flashed through his head. The last image he remembered was of a woman with a lions head and his brother lying motionless at her feet. Then everything went white hot blank.

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Dean sat down slowly on his bed once Sam had disappeared behind the door. His head pounded but he knew he had to stay focused for a bit longer to stitch Sam's leg. It was a bitch needing stitches but more so having to do your own.

They had been lucky out there today, all of them. This thing obviously had a lot of strength but what in hell had this kind of MO, what killed one victim and merely pushed others out of its way? What changed its preferred killing method each time it killed? Unless there was more than one killer here.

Dean's thoughts pushed and pulled against each other until he couldn't focus on a single one. His headache putting an end to any deep thought process he had unwittingly attempted and his eyes began to close even though he remained sitting. A loud noise from the bathroom brought him back from the nothingness he had drifted into and he squinted towards the door waiting on Sam to emerge.

"Hey Francis you okay in there?"

'Sam?" Dean stood and walked over to the door, knocking as he was already turning the handle.

"Jesus."

His brother lay panting on the floor in a tangled heap, hands clenched into fists even in his unconscious state. A circle of blood beginning to pool on the tiles underneath the gash on his leg.

"Sammy. Sam can you hear me?"

Dean patted his brother's face one, twice, trying to get a reaction and was finally rewarded with a gasp as Sam's eyes opened and looked around wildly as he fought to sit up. One of Sam's hands caught the front of Dean's shirt, a look of confusion on his face.

"Hey. Easy Sam. Just wait a minute." Dean slowly helped his brother sit up, bracing his back against the wall until he gained his equilibrium. Sam's hand slowly released its grasp allowing Dean to move back a little to survey the damage.

"I need to stitch your leg up now Sam. Can you make it to the bed?"

Sam nodded, his brow still creased in a frown as he let Dean half carry him to the bed.

"What the hell happened, you okay?" Dean finally had Sam propped up on the bed, no additional injuries apparent. He began sterilizing the needle, his mind running full speed ahead as he waited for an answer.

Sam winced as Dean wiped his knee down with antiseptic. "I don't know. I just…I don't know Dean." He looked at his brother's worried face as he began to recall the details of what he saw.

"Probably just blood loss. Next time we do it my way, stitches first."

"I saw her." Sam continued when Dean shot him a confused look. "The woman with the lion's head, I saw her."

What! In the shower?" Dean made a move to stand up.

"No. Yeah. No like a vision, not like I normally have, this was – different. She, it was in my head, showed me things. I saw her as though she was…it was like she was gloating."

'Gloating? Sam you're not making any sense, did she say anything? Give you some clue about…"

"She didn't have to Dean. You were lying at her feet like you were…" Sam let the sentence hang and shook his head, unable or unwilling to continue.

"So if it wasn't a vision what was it? That freaky ass thing I saw near you man, that's gotta have something to do with this." Dean was trying not to lose it, really trying. He didn't want to freak Sam out any more but what if this had something to do with Meg, what if she was still around and playing with them, what if…?

Sam watched as Dean went into big brother mode but all could think about was making sure this demon or whatever the hell it was, didn't get a hold of Dean. "This isn't about me Dean, this is about keeping you safe. You've got a bullet hole in your shoulder, not to mention concussion from today…"

"No Sam it's about getting this bitch out of your head." Dean's voice was barely restrained. Sam could just about see the tension now coming off his sibling although his hands never wavered from their task as he used another piece of gauze to wipe away the excess blood from the stitches. "I'm not concussed either."

"Whatever, but you're not at full strength so we've gotta make sure we tread carefully. I don't want you getting hurt again." Sam wearily took the Ibuprofen and water held out to him.

"Yeah well it goes with the territory, you know that Sam."

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Sam stretched and looked over at Dean, lying almost face first in a large and old volume of mythology that Bobby had given to them. They had finished off the last of their take away from Cougar's and Sam had reciprocated stitching duties after finally being allowed to inspect Dean's head. Thankfully the head injury wasn't too bad and there seemed to be no further damage to his healing shoulder.

Sam turned his head back to the screen as the search engine provided another long list of results for "woman with lions head". If he hadn't seen it himself he would have thought it was just a random and meaningless detail of Mark Reed's hallucination but now…

"Anything?" Dean sat up and placed his feet on the floor, rubbing a hand across his eyes.

"Well if you like Greek Mythology there's an endless supply of Gods and demons with an assortment of composite body parts but none…" The sentence was left hanging in the air.

"Sam?"

"I've found it." Sam knew the instant he saw the drawing it was the same one he had seen standing over his brother. As he read on he also knew they could be in over their heads. "Crap."

Dean stood behind Sam and studied the screen. "Crap. So this Lamas."

"Lamashtu."

"Is a female demon, monster or malevolent goddess from Mesopotamia." Dean read over his brother's shoulder. "What the hell's she doing in Wilton Sam?"

"I don't know Dean but she also fits the profile." Sam kept reading as Dean began to pace. "Her deeds include causing harm to mothers and babies, eating men and drinking their blood or driving them insane, disturbing sleep, bringing nightmares, killing foliage, infesting rivers and lakes, and a bringer of disease, sickness, and death."

"Just peachy. Okay how do we kill her, it?"

"Well Dean I'm gonna have to check out a few more sites there's ah, no actual reference to killing her here seeing as she's a myth."

"What do you mean?" Dean came back to stand behind his brother and noticed the website for the first time. "Wikipedia Sam?"

"Whatever works okay? I still think there's more to this Dean. I don't think she'd just turn up here."

"Maybe she was summoned."

"Maybe. Probably. I think tomorrow we'd better go check out the good townsfolk again 'cause someone's not playing nice."

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Dean tried to breathe but the white, hot agony in his shoulder stole the air from his lungs and the strength to fight. All he could do was to keep his eyes open as his right hand uselessly grasped the hand that dug into the fresh bullet wound. He looked into his brother's face, wondering what he had done to deserve this torment. Not Sam.

"I can see it in your eyes Dean. You're worthless. You couldn't save your Dad and deep down you know that you can't save your brother. They'd have been better off without you."

Sam's voice, strength, touch when he felt himself slipping, falling, hurting – they were all so familiar, so much a piece of him they made him whole. Deep down he knew the pain and the words didn't come from Sam but the voice he could still hear in his head, in his dreams shook him to his core. The voice of reason, of trust, the voice of his brother that had brought him back from the brink too many times for him to count. The voice made the words cut so deeply they had become ingrained in his soul. With enough time, the marks would scuff and fade but there would always be an imprint that remained.

'No!"

He sat up, sweat stinging his eyes and his shoulder aching as though reliving the nightmare had awakened the pain. It took him almost a minute before he realised that he was clutching a knife in his hand. He glanced over to his brother's bed relieved to see no movement as he replaced the knife under his pillow and headed for the bathroom.

Closing the door and leaving the light off, he turned the faucet on and splashed cold water over his face. Dean didn't need the light on to know how hollow his eyes would look. He didn't need to see the fear when he could feel it gutting him from the inside.

He opened the door not bothering to dry his face and froze when he heard Sam's voice.

"No."

Dean moved across to his brother's bed and sat down on the edge. "Sam? You okay?"

Sam continued to toss and turn his breathing becoming more rapid, head turning from side to side. "Dean. No, no, no…God oh God."

When Sam cried out, his back arching off the bed in obvious pain, Dean forcefully grabbed Sam by the shoulders and shook him, unable to watch any longer. "Sam? Sam wake up."

It took another five minutes before Sam opened his eyes and Dean released him, moving back a little but not leaving the bed.

"What did you see?"

Sam looked up at his brother in the near darkness, the motel's outside lighting casting a weak glow through the curtains. Enough light to see the water beaded on his brother's face and hair, the damp t-shirt.

"I…um, I saw the baby in the forest. Torn apart." Sam sat up slowly and rubbed a hand roughly across his face as though to purge the images from his mind. His head pounded.

"What else?" Dean pushed, half knowing what the answer would be but knowing Sam had to get this out in the open before he decided not to share.

"I saw you." Sam averted his eyes, looking anywhere but at his brother. Anywhere but at that look that demanded to know and would get what it wanted at all costs.

"Oh great Sam. And what exactly was I doing, or was it a case of who was I doing cause damn, I really would like all those juicy details. I mean it's been a while and…"

"You were dead okay. You were dead and I didn't stop it. There was blood coming out of your mouth and you were screaming and then you were dead - is that enough juicy details for you 'cause it sure as hell is enough for me Dean. Don't you think I see you hurt enough for real without having nightmares or visions or whatever the hell this is? Why do you have to be such a jerk?" Sam was yelling by the time he finished.

"Cause maybe you saw something that could help us Sam. Maybe this freakin' demon gave up a freakin' clue while she was busy showing you her little movie reel." Dean's voice was raised to match his brother's before he even thought about it, before he could stop himself. He lifted an arm to Sam's shoulder to allay the anger and hurt and fear he could see before him. The torment he had caused, a means to an end.

Sam got up, pushing his brother's arm away as he passed and slammed the bathroom door shut.

"Shit." Dean let himself fall back on Sam's bed, hands crossed over his forehead. "Stupid jerk."

_tbc…_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I don't own it or profit from anything Supernatural._

_a/n: Am amazed I have actually posted this on schedule but must admit I haven't checked it as much as I normally do – too busy reading other spn fanfics for a change!. Any errors are my bad (hangs head in shame), and will no doubt come back to haunt me. _

_lb._

**Divided They Fall Together**

**Chapter 3**

Sam leant back against the closed door trying to get his breathing under control. Half of him wanted to hug his brother with relief for being real, for being alright. The other half, and maybe the more persuasive half right now, wanted to smack Dean in the mouth. How could his brother make him say it out loud, make it more real by sharing the details. He knew Dean had goaded him into spilling his guts, he had fallen right into that one. Stupid jerk.

Truth was, Sam was having trouble reconciling not only the fact that Meg had used him to hurt Dean but that Dean would do anything to save him, go to any lengths. He knew Dean had always tried to keep him safe, and as much as he hated to see the burden it caused his older brother he loved him for it as well. This time though, Dean was the one in danger but he wouldn't acknowledge it, he was still trying to save Sam.

Sam stepped away from the door, his fury dissolving enough to know he wasn't really angry at Dean, just angry. God the images had been so real, the baby lying on the forest floor. Dean screaming, the blood and…. Sam opened the door and walked quickly across the room turning the main light on and sitting at the table opening his laptop.

"The hell Sam?" Dean squinted as the harsh light assaulted his eyes and he moved from his brother's bed where he had just about fallen back to sleep.

"I saw you in a cave Dean. There was some kind of cave in the forest and dead trees."

"Okay, so we find the cave and we find our killer?"

"Well at least it's a start."

"I didn't mean to put you through that Sam. I just…"

"I know why you did it Dean okay, and it worked. But you're still a jerk."

"Yeah."

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They both got up at first light, neither boy having the stomach to do more than rest for a few hours. Sleep was fraught with too much risk, too much pain.

Sam hadn't been able to pinpoint a cave in the vicinity from anything on the web so they had decided to go back to the area where the body had been found yesterday. It was as good a place as any to start, their only immediate problem was how to fight this demon if they came upon it again.

"Do you really think the flamethrower is necessary?"

Dean paused looking at the device in his hand and then huffed dramatically, placing it back down on the bed. "I don't know Sam, be prepared. What the hell should we be taking 'cause I don't want a repeat of yesterday. At least we'll know to have the EMF detector out and on, get a heads up."

"If it even registers. This demon isn't like the ones we normally come across Dean. It's being used by someone, I'm sure there's no other way it would be here."

"Okay so we know it has a few personal favorites on its list of how and who to kill but what purpose would it serve for someone to summon it?"

"Well it, she, is, was, a demon God." Sam sighed at himself in frustration. "Lamashtu was also daughter of Anu the sky God so she's gotta wield some power."

"So, Godlike powers call for blood sacrifices I get that. Now we've just gotta find out who's reaped the reward here."

"Maybe we were asking the right people the wrong questions Dean. The town's not that big, we might need to mingle some more."

"First thing's first Sam." Dean zipped the bag and slung it over his shoulder, returning the flamethrower to their larger weapons bag which would remain in the Impala's trunk. "Let's go annoy a God."

'Well if anyone could do it Dean, you're the man."

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"Was wonderin' when you two'd show up again." It was a statement more than anything, no hint of surprise evident in his voice as Stephen Oliver stepped back and beckoned them into his cabin.

The brothers had decided to pay the retired logger a visit when they arrived back at the forest, thinking it may just save them some time to enlist the help of someone who knew the woods. Although he had made the call alerting the Sheriff to the trail of blood, it also wouldn't be the first time a killer had involved themselves in an investigation to become above suspicion. They would be on their guard. This would at least give them a chance to check him out.

"Well now, you sure don't seem too surprised to see us. Not planning on luring us into some kind of trap there are you Mr Oliver? How many other bodies you got hidden away in the forest?"

Sam's mouth dropped open as his brother spoke and if looks could kill, Dean was a goner. He had promised not to do this. Sam had actually, specifically mentioned that he should not do the whole terminator cop thing and try, just this once, the subtle approach. Maybe he should have also specifically mentioned that a sledgehammer was not subtle.

Sam's inner debate was interrupted by the sound of raucous laughter as Stephen belly laughed so hard Sam thought he was going to pull a muscle. Well either this guy had a sense of humour or he was a fine actor. Sam rolled his eyes when Dean gave him a smirk and a shrug.

"So you Marshall's honestly think that I'm the evil mastermind behind these deaths?" His tone now all business, the older man continued. "From the looks on your faces yesterday I think you know well as I do there's more going on here that meets the eye."

Sam and Dean shared a glance that spoke volumes. Do we trust him? Maybe, but not yet. Let's see what he knows, I've got your back. Right back at ya.

"So tell us what you think is going on here." Sam ventured.

"What I think is there's no bear and what I saw yesterday, well let's just say I didn't see anything. What did ya come round here for anyway, I'm too old for these games."

"This is no game. Do you know of a cave anywhere near here in the forest?"

"There're dead trees around it or nearby." Sam added trying to remember any other relevant details.

"So you do have a clue after all. Well thank the Lord Almighty. There's a few caves 'bout an hour or two in but there's only one with dead trees. Ya looking at about a three hour hike for the one you want."

"What do you mean? If there's something more you know, now would be a good time to share." Dean's tone was harsh. His head was beginning to pound from lack of sleep and he had had just about enough of the cryptic conversation.

"We only want to help get rid of this thing so anything you know…"

"Alright, alright." Stephen threw his hands in the air and motioned for them to sit. He clasped his hands together, his face going stony. "S'happened before, twice that I know of – this'll make the third that I've seen with m'own eyes."

"Okay so tell us what happened. Any detail, no matter how small, might help us here**.**" Sam cajoled, not wanting to push too much now he saw the older man hesitate.

"Fourteen years ago it took my pregnant wife along with six others. Seven years ago it came back and took seven more. And now, well you've landed yourselves pretty much in the middle of killing season."

Dean shook his head impatiently. "And you've said nothing all this time, told no one?"

"Ya think I haven't tried? Twice now I been questioned by the police bout things I seemed to know 'fore everyone else. Even the Sheriff, God rest his soul, warned me to stop meddling. I figured I'd do what I could but it ain't made no damn difference."

"So every seven years it takes seven victims. Why hasn't anyone else noticed the pattern, what's been the cause of death?"

"Normally bear or cougar or whatever else rogue animal they want to blame. Ain't no different this time. People see what they want to, ya can't 'spect folks to believe in things that ain't real. Things that couldn't possibly be real."

'What makes you any different?"

"Well I know 'cause it's been in my head. And I've seen the lion woman."

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Sam found his voice. "What do you mean? Are you seeing these deaths before they happen, you've seen this thing?"

"Well judging by your question, y'already seem to know the answer there son. Yeah I see 'em. Not that it's done any damn good. The first few times I tried ta warn 'em but I was either too late or the order was all wrong like fooling me was part of the game. It kills 'em in different ways too and it takes the woman first but the last death, it's been the worst one."

"How could it get any worse?" Sam glanced over at his brother.

"I heard the Sheriff talking last time and he said the fella, a salesman from one of them city shops, tortured two girls before he cut himself up. I'm pretty sure the last to die both times were the only ones that killed folks 'fore they did themselves in, messy too. It's pretty hard to keep those kinda details quiet when everyone knows everyone.

"How did you know about the cave?"

"Wasn't 'till the last killing time when I started to see this cave with the dead trees so I figured maybe it holed up in there and I could kill it. I ain't too bad a shot ya know. I been loggin' a long time and come across my fair share of cougars, even bears."

"So you've seen the cave. Have you seen a witch?"

"Witch?" Stephen looked at Dean as though he had lost his mind.

"Yeah, we could be dealing with a witch here." Dean repeated. He figured this guy was for real and so far out of his depth already, a little more truth couldn't really hurt.

"I'm too old for all this nonsense. No I ain't seen no witch and I never did get inside the cave but I know there's something there." He paused sinking further back in his chair before looking at each boy and coming to some inner decision. He finally stood and retrieved a folded page and a pen from a drawer in one of the wooden wall cabinets and placed it on the table between them. "Here's where you'll find the cave and this'd be the best trail." He said making some marks on what was a well worn map.

"When my Bethany was killed carrying our baby I thought I was losing my mind. We had tried for so long to have children and then…I was left alone. They said it was a bear and her body was…I knew I had to kill it. I hunted for it day and night and finally came across another body, up near the cave so I figured it was holed up in there. That's when something came at me and I woke up hours later. Pain in my head got so bad, took me a good day to get back here.

I tried to go back after that and again the next year but every time, my head gets filled up with the lion woman and who she's killing. Hurts too much, she don't want me goin' near that place."

"What happens when it shows you these things, what's it like?"

Stephen turned to look at Dean and shook his head. "Wouldn't wish it on anyone, real painful is what it is. Nearly sent me blind in one eye last time but it's worse if ya fight it."

'Have you seen anything this time?"

"I saw things at first but it's gone. I think it's gone now."

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The brothers set out from the cabin following the marked map that Stephen Oliver had given them after they had finally convinced him to stay behind. They knew that he wanted to help, put an end to this killing that had claimed his wife and unborn child all those years ago but letting him come along was too risky.

"Why do you even think it shows someone what its doing?"

"I guess it's just arrogant, doesn't think it can be stopped and this is just part of its sick little game. Stephen was hunting it even though he wasn't really sure what he was after, and it had already killed someone before he got near it, just like us I guess." Dean shrugged.

"It must only be able to kill seven people each time but what, only one each day? Someone must be controlling it Dean."

"Okay so we've got the first victim Janice Reed, she died…" Dean closed one eye as he worked trying to ignore the dull headache. "September 15. Then her husband was the day we got here the 17th and yesterday that tourist guy."

"His name was Paul Barnes." No tone, no emotion just plain simple fact. How could Dean ignore it, just pretend like he wasn't in any danger?

"I know Sam." No anger just resignation. "Even if we follow the pattern of seven deaths…"

"The baby's dead too Dean, I saw it. She probably died the day after her mother and that would fit the pattern of one death a day that Stephen was talking about. The victims just aren't found right away which is why the time of death isn't always clear."

"September 21st." Dean paused shaking his head. "September 21st is also Mabon, Autumn Equinox - the day the last death should occur. Man, it's gotta be black magic. Just freakin' wonderful."

"Okay, if the equinox is figured in to the equation then this ritual is gonna be about restoring power or life force which also explains the blood sacrifices."

"So that leaves us with less than three days to find this thing and stop it. We gotta find this cave Sam it's our best chance."

"God Dean that baby was alive for a day, alone with this demon that tortured its mother to death."

Dean looked over at his brother and his blood ran cold at the thought of the child, the baby alone and scared. He took in the look of anguish on his brother's face that matched his own inner grief.

"We will kill this son of a bitch Sam, we'll find it and we'll finish it. I promise."

"I know we will Dean 'cause I won't let it take you."

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The terrain got rougher and more heavily treed the further they went, both alert for signs of what they hunted but also on the look out for the natural predators of the forest which could be just as deadly. They had been warned that this wildlife corridor was home to cougars, bobcats and the occasional black bear. The only sighting so far had been a small group of deer that had fled as soon as they had sensed company.

"We should be about half way but it looks like it gets harder from here." Sam looked from the map he was holding up at the steep incline they were about to traverse. He paused as Dean took the lead and began climbing.

"Dean."

"Yeah?" Dean stopped and looked back at this brother, noting the creased brow and set jaw. "You okay Sam? How's your knee?"

Sam shook his head dismissively. "I think you should stay back when we get to the cave okay. Cover me when I go in."

"What? No way. Why would you think I would let you go in alone when this thing's been in your head?"

'That's exactly why Dean. It showed me you, dead in the cave so why would we want to go and walk right into that huh? Is it so hard to let me try and look out for you for once, try and keep you safe? You might not give a damn about getting hurt or worse. You might not want to fight for yourself but I will Dean. This isn't always about keeping me safe, protecting me."

"I can't keep you safe Sam when these things get in your head. I'm fucking useless to you, we've both seen how that works out. How am I supposed to fight something, protect you, when I can't see the danger? When there's nothing I can do to help you. You might not want my help Sam but…"

They both knew the discussion was about more than this job. The words were laced with double meanings and fear and uncertainty that had been slowly eating away just beneath the surface for days. They had both been trying to avoid this, sidestepping the questions when they knew there were no real answers, no definitive right or wrong just get things done. It normally worked to a degree, more than this anyway. But lines had been crossed in Minnesota and there was no going back.

"How can you say that Dean? You're the one that keeps shutting me out. You think I don't know you're having nightmares every night? It's been getting worse hasn't it? You're back at Bobby's and I'm hurting you, I can see it on your face. How do you think I feel when you look at me like you're afraid of me? How the hell am I supposed to just move on when I remember every punch, every word I hurt you with? How the hell can I relax knowing if it happens again you're not even gonna fight back Dean?" How could I live if I had killed you?"

"Yeah, well how could anyone ever ask me to kill my baby brother Sam? But you and Dad both made me promise. How the hell am I supposed to live with that?"

Dean hated that his voice sounded cracked, emotional. He didn't want to yell at Sam, fight with him over this but here they were. He knew he didn't have the answers Sam wanted, the guarantees that he would have to give, hell he had nothing save for the here and now. Kill the demon, finish the job, move on. Look out for your brother, keep Sammy safe. Those words were a part of him, who he was, what he was and he would rather die himself before he would willingly violate them but Sam would never understand that, would never accept it.

Sam held his breath and watched as Dean's posture slumped with the weight of his words. Sam saw for a brief instant the damage that the promise had done to his older brother, the pain it had inflicted and he wanted to take it back so badly but he was so afraid. He felt like he had no control over anything, over his own fate or his brother's but worse than that was his fear that he could be controlled by the darkness. And the darkness always seemed to want to hurt Dean.

Whether it was already in him or whether it would just take him didn't really matter – he knew it wanted him for something. If it took him completely he would rather be dead. He just didn't understand, didn't accept that Dean would ever let him live if he became a monster. Sam also didn't accept the fact that Dean valued his own life so little in the great scheme of things. His stubborn, pig headed older brother always put himself last on the long list of who should get saved. Sam would not give in to that logic.

The conflict and the tension remained thick in the air between them. Dean broke contact first, turning back towards the slope, readjusting the bag over his shoulder and the EMF detector in his hand as he started walking.

"C'mon Sam." Simple yet effective.

Both boys knew this wasn't over, emotions churned wildly within each of them, crashing and deflecting like stormy waves over rock. Their divergence would be put on the backburner for now to blister and bubble like acid and they would pay for that later. For now though, Sam knew he had lost this battle to keep Dean out of harms way. However if nothing else, it increased his resolve to ensure he won the war 'cause he feared his brother's life was very much at stake.

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Another seventy minutes and Dean reached a small summit area glancing back at Sam who was following closely in his wake. He noticed his younger brother was now limping but hadn't decreased his pace to compensate for his earlier injury. He drew a water bottle out of his duffel and passed it to the younger man who took it without meeting his eyes.

"How's your knee?" Dean had spoken the words out loud before he realised that this was just about how their last conversation had started. God no please.

"S'okay. A little stiff that's all." Sam's urge to converse further was forgotten as he stared down the slope in front of them. A small stand of dead ponderosa pines stood out amidst the otherwise lush and coloured growth of the forest. "Looks like we're here."

Dean took a swig of water then packed it away, his hand re-emerging from the bag with several flasks and salt canisters. "Okay so our best guess is that this demon God or whatever, can become corporeal in which case we may also need these." He handed Sam a wooden stake and proceeded to put one down his own boot.

"If it's here of its own accord we can probably use the salt and a banishing spell. If it's been summoned it's gonna be more complicated. I'm hoping there's something in the cave that'll give us a clue."

Sam watched as Dean zipped the bag up and stood, patting down his pockets as if mentally cataloguing the assortment of weaponry stashed throughout his clothing. Sam placed a flask of holy water in his own back pocket and the salt in his jacket before breaking the barrel and checking the salt shots in his rifle.

"Dean…" Sam wasn't even sure what was going to come next but he felt he had to say something.

"Sammy, we do this as a team. Like always okay. Remember we're good at this shit."

"Is that the best motivational speech you've got?" Sam couldn't help but grin and be thankful for his brother's successful attempt to alleviate the tension between them, if only for the moment.

"Nah. I'm just saving the good ones for when we really need them. Y'know the one bullet left, no escape and twenty demons on our ass kinda situations."

"Oh, well in that case I guess I'm motivated." A second's pause. "Be careful Dean."

"Yeah you too."

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They made their way down to the dead pines, moving at an angle so they would come up just behind the area through the cover of the forest. They moved as quietly as possible, vigilant for any sign of danger but finding none. Dean frowned down at the detector in his hand and gave it a small shake as if to ensure it was awake but it gave no signal save for the green light indicating it was powered on.

Sam touched a hand to a piece of bark on the trunk of one of the dead pines and it crumbled in his fingers. He followed Dean who had walked to the middle of the trees and was turning in a circle.

"Six of them are dead and that one looks like it's on its way out. I somehow don't think this is a coincidence."

"It's gotta be connected but Stephen said they were already here fourteen years ago so they obviously don't represent each victim."

"No but they might correspond to each killing cycle."

"Dean that would mean this has been going on here for forty nine years. D'you think that's possible, I mean no one has questioned these deaths in all that time?"

'Well like the man said, no one wants to see it for what it is - hell we get that all the time Sam. Going back all those years there couldn't a been too many settlers round here and people disappearing without a trace…who's gonna know where to look in all this?" Dean waved his rifle to gesture at the forest. "Yeah I think it's possible and all the more reason to put an end to it."

"The cave should be up there through the clearing." Sam kept his voice even, hiding his growing sense of dread as he started walking ahead of his brother.

They paused at the cave's entrance, feeling the coolness even before they entered. Both felt edgy, the anticipation of something happening fraying their nerves to the point of almost distraction. Sam held his rifle poised as Dean grounded his bag and removed two flashlights and then the salt canister from his jacket.

"I'm gonna salt the entrance when we go in – it'll either keep something out or something in depending on our luck I guess but either way we'll be ready." He looked at Sam who was in full hunter mode, eyes intense, jaw set and body slightly crouched as he gave a small nod to indicate he was with the program.

They moved inside and Dean placed the EMF detector on a low rock beside him and started laying a salt line. Sam stopped about three feet away and scanned back and forth for any movement. He knew they were vulnerable here, the switch between scanning the brightness outside the cave and then the dimness within meant that his eyes were not adjusting as quickly as he wanted even with the help of the flashlight. He was relieved when Dean stood up and moved beside him.

Sam knew he was breathing too fast as his heart raced and he forced himself to focus. Forced the image of his brother lying here in this very place out of his head. Not gonna happen.

Shadows flickered and danced as their lights swept methodically from wall to roof to floor and back again alternating between front and back of their position. As they neared the back wall, the chill creeping right through their layered clothing, they discovered what looked like a natural rock platform about waist high.

"Check this out." Dean grimaced as he held up a jar of what looked like a gruesome assortment of teeth and nails floating in a yellow liquid. There were dozens more jars on the wooden shelving behind the platform. "Huh, just about everything 'cept a cauldron and a broom."

"Yeah well these herbs mean some serious black magic Dean. Digitalis, Thornapple, Henbane, Belladonna and the list goes on. I don't even know these others – this is some serious shit."

"Okay well I've also got arrowheads and oh, I think I've scored the bonus points here Sammy." Dean hefted something from beneath the rock and placed it none too gently on the top face of the raised platform. Dust and other particles billowed in the streams of light as the boys looked at the large and ancient looking book that now rested between them.

Sam moved his hand across the worn cover, grimacing at the texture beneath his fingertips as he opened the tome to a random page. The first thought that crossed his mind was the similarities to their Dad's journal, the scrawl and haphazard drawings and symbols. This however was much more malignant as he saw the contents for what they truly were as he turned more and more pages.

"Jesus Sam, I think it's written in blood." Dean leaned in closer to the page Sam had left open.

"It's a grimoire, it's supposed to be more powerful if it's written in red and bound with human skin. We need to take it with us, we're gonna need to reference the language to be able to read it. I can only recognise pieces of the text that look like Latin."

"Okay let's grab it and get outta here before our luck runs out. Y'know I'm pretty sure there's also some kind of link between a grimoire and its owner."

Sam quickly placed the book in his bag and they approached the bright glare that marked the cave's mouth. They paused long enough to put away the flashlights and Dean grabbed the detector off the rock near the line of salt.

"You think it's out there waiting?" Sam voiced his concern, knowing the answer before it was given.

"Probably." Dean looked across and held Sam's stare before he grinned. "And more than likely pretty pissed we've taken its favourite bedtime story book."

"Yeah I guess." Sam grinned back without really meaning to but his brother just had that effect on him sometimes.

"You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Okay then, same time you head left and I'll cut around to the right so we can…"

"No Dean, we're not splitting up."

"Sam, we split up we're harder to track. We're gonna be like sitting ducks when we go out there."

"Dean we split up and one of us gets hurt, it'll be too easy to keep us separated. I'll go first, you cover my back but stay with me."

Sam knew he had no choice but to move and give his brother no more time to argue. He knew Dean wouldn't leave him unprotected and he felt a pang of guilt at exploiting that knowledge but his intention was to draw the first fire giving Dean a chance to get to safety. He would worry about the inevitable pissed off big brother factor later, when they were both safe.

Crouching low and sprinting away from the cave, Sam headed for the nearby cover of the forest, his rifle poised and his eyes trying to look in every direction at once. Sam heard Dean swear then follow swiftly, amazed at how his normally boisterous sibling always managed to move so stealthily when it mattered.

Sam dropped to a crouch several feet into the thicker underbrush and Dean was only seconds behind him. The older boy came to a sudden stop and then without missing a beat punched Sam in the shoulder. Hard.

"What the hell was that Sam? What are you trying to do, get yourself killed or just piss me off enough so I'll do it for you?" Dean's heart was hammering in his chest and he didn't quite realise what he'd said until the words had left his mouth and made a direct impact on Sam's face.

Sam knew Dean was just verbally kicking his ass, not really referring back to their earlier conversation but he also saw the change in those green eyes as they went from anger to regret. He paused as the words sank in and slapped him hard across the face, as he told himself not to react even when he knew it was too late. Everything that happened between them now, every comment made was a double edged sword that wavered shakily between inflicting a small cut or a mortal wound.

Sam took a breath, hating the look on Dean's face, needing to fix this, wanting to make things right. He thought it was odd however that he was suddenly sitting on the ground, his vision swimming as he squinted his eyes to regain some focus.

"Dean?" It came out more like a whisper followed by a groan of pain.

"Sam what's wrong, what is it?" Dean placed a hand on his brother's shoulder at the same time fully aware that he had to keep his senses about him. As Sam's head lolled to the side, he eased his upper body to the ground satisfied for the moment that he had just passed out. Dean then did a slow sweep of the area before placing fingers on the side of his brother's neck just to make sure.

"Jesus Sam c'mon don't do this, not now." Dean's nerves were so frayed they were humming. The anticipation of an attack had been hanging over their heads long enough for him to almost wish it would just happen already. He wasn't cut out for this waiting crap.

"Sammy!" It came out more of a command than anything, but Sam responded and Dean didn't stop to analyse how or why.

Sam groggily opened his eyes and struggled back up to sitting, hearing himself breathing harshly but unable to stop. "Stephen, it kills him Dean. We've got to get back now, we've got to keep him out of the forest, get him safe." Sam scrambled to his knees, looking around for his weapon.

"Okay Sam, just take it easy." Dean saw the look of determination in his brother's eyes. He stood, checking their surroundings again and held out a hand. He felt Sam's hand graze his own then fall away, he looked down in time to see his brother's eyes roll back in his head as he dropped back to the ground.

"Sam what…?" His concern was cut off as the younger boy's body suddenly arched off the ground as he cried out in pain. What followed looked like a convulsion, ending suddenly when Sam's hands flew to his head and his eyes opened wide.

"It, she can see us…God…knows we've got the book. Aarrggh. Dean?"

"Sammy you've got to break the link." Dean grabbed his brother's shoulders, not knowing what else to do.

"God it's in my head. Dean? Dean?" Sam was grabbing frantically at the arms that held him, his legs writhing as he tried to dig his heels into the earth.

"Sammy c'mon you can do this, you can make it get out." Dean could feel the panic in his brother's body as he tensed and gasped in agony. What the fuck was he supposed to do here when he couldn't see any enemy to fight. How was he supposed to protect Sam from this, save him from this?

"Help…me." Sam barely got the words out before arching off the ground again trying to claw at his head.

One hand still on Sam's shoulder, Dean moved another hand to his brother's forehead then face trying to calm him but he couldn't do this any longer. He couldn't just sit and watch as Sam struggled alone, couldn't sit idly by giving empty encouragement. Sam glazed eyes fell on him again - pleading, hoping for something, some reprieve. Blood trickled out of his nose.

"Sammy, God I'm sorry." Dean raised his fist and struck before he had time to feel too much. He hit the side of his brother's jaw with a snap watching almost in slow motion as droplets of blood flew off into the air. Silence.

Silence except for the sobbing gasps that he realised he was making as he watched the motionless form before him. He tentatively touched a hand to the unmoving face that still frowned with the echo of pain and wondered how long that look had really been there.

_tbc…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Divided They Fall Together**

_Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from anything Supernatural._

_a/n: This one was hard - the rollercoaster of emotions in this chapter just kinda happened and no matter how I try and lessen the turbulence, I can't. I have now decided it was meant to be and hope you think it still reflects the Sam and Dean we know. This anger, fear, avoidance and lashing out actually continue after this chapter as well but it's totally out of control now and I can't rein it in._

_I guess this chapter will decide whether you're on board with this or not…either way, I'll be back in my dark crawlspace trying to finish it._

_lb._

**Chapter 4**

He had sat there on guard for forty long minutes, the bark of the tree digging into his back and his hand clenched around a pistol. A loaded rifle lay alongside his left leg, and his brother's head rested on the other. He knew he should have kept moving, guarding the salted perimeter that now surrounded him and the immobile body that lay within it but he didn't. Couldn't.

As he checked Sam's pulse again, his brother moaned and moved his head.

Sam? Hey it's okay."

Sam slowly brought his hand up and rubbed his eyes, then touched his jaw.

"Sammy you with me?" Dean was relieved to see a brief glimpse of dark eyes before they were covered again by hands and hair.

"Think so. Head hurts."

"Well you gotta stop letting all the freaks in there dude." Dean swallowed his relief and emotion along with the lump that had formed in his throat.

Sam looked around cautiously, his brain feeling like a grenade had gone off inside. He tilted his head up slowly, realising Dean was upside down and he was lying on his brother's leg. Dean wore a grin that, even from this angle wasn't very convincing. Sam slowly rolled onto his side, coming to rest half propped up on an elbow.

"She saw us Dean, she was watching us but…but it was like a two way link. I felt her anger and I saw what happened to the other victims. I was in her mind."

Sam stared vacantly at nothing and Dean knew he was trying to push those memories away for the moment. Knowing Sam though, they would resurface from their shallow grave at some point, unfairly tagged to the guilt he already carried. Dean waited. He appeared passive but the rage and anger was building inside him, not at Sam but at how useless he felt to his brother right now.

"Dean help me up, we have to get back, we have to stop this now. I think Stephen's next." Sam held his hand out for help, knowing he was going to need it. As Dean grabbed his hand and elbow and steadied him he felt a surge of strength wash over him from the warmth of his brother's grip. It hit him then how much he relied on that unfaltering force that was Dean. As he wavered, he felt the grip move to his shoulder without hesitation and he was grateful.

"What else did you see Sam?" Voice low, almost hesitant.

"Flashes, images of each death and the places they happened. I saw her Dean, it's Bala."

"I knew I didn't like that bitch."

Sam raised a hand to his temple.

"What?" Dean came around beside his brother. "What is it?"

"Seven deaths in seven, the last shell a vessel. On Mabon's eve the seven witches will walk as human. The dawn will restore what time has taken."

"The hell Sam?"

"I…I think it's the ritual. Bala was chanting it - Lamashtu is called for this ritual Dean. Bala's life force is fading and I felt her fear and then, then…I don't remember."

"Okay so we just have to work out what that means. I love it when a plan comes together."

"Her eyes, they looked straight at me and she screamed and that's when the pain started, she knew I could see her and she's pretty pissed. How did the connection break 'cause I thought she was gonna fry my brain?"

Dean averted his gaze. He had hoped Sam wouldn't remember enough to ask, at least not so soon before he could think of the right words.

"Dean?"

"I knocked you out Sam. I didn't know what else to do so I hit you."

Much to his surprise Sam grinned. "Well I guess I'll take a hit in the line of duty. It worked. God it hurt so much I wouldn't have cared if you'd…" Shot me. Sam left the sentence unfinished and the silence between them only lasted a few seconds but seemed like a lifetime.

"C'mon, can you walk?" Dean slung the duffel over his right shoulder, he felt like he was at breaking point. There were too many emotions for him to deal with even he had wanted to deal with them, which he most certainly did not. He knew Sam was floundering in deep water as well but for the moment each was keeping afloat. If he had to keep his brother from going under he would do so without a second thought but rather in the knowledge that he would sink to keep Sam afloat.

"It's okay Dean, I know you didn't want to hit me. I know things between us are kinda screwed up after... after…" Sam felt lost, he needed his brother to understand how he felt but he could barely keep things straight in his own head.

"Don't Sam. Not now. Just…not now." Dean's voice was hard steel. If Sam had looked at the face behind those words however he would have seen the terror of a drowning man.

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Sam cursed again as he lost his footing and went down on one knee, thankfully not the injured one this time. He wasted no time getting back on his feet, biting back a groan at the pain that still stabbed behind his eyes. He lurched forward and would have gone down again but was steadied by a firm hand.

"Sam will you just stop for a minute and rest. You've probably popped the stitches in your knee."

"Dean I saw this demon killing Stephen so no I'm not gonna stop and rest. We have to get there and stop this before it's too late."

It had been slow going on the way back from the cave. Dean could see that his brother was pushing his limits and he knew Sam was hurting more than he was letting on after his mind meld with the witch from hell. Dean reckoned they were only about half an hour out from the cabin but Sam's strength was flagging.

"Well what's your plan college boy? Get there and collapse unconscious on the demon 'cause I'm pretty sure that's only gonna piss her off more. What you saw might be just a trick, not gonna happen. Remember what Stephen said, it was playing with him."

"I'm not gonna take that chance. I'm fine Dean, just a little shaky so don't keep telling me what to do." Sam wiped a hand across his face which came away bloody. He knew his brother had noticed but there was no time for this, he couldn't be the reason this man died.

"Yeah, I forgot your nose bleeds when you're perfectly fine. Have a drink." Dean shoved a water bottle out at his brother which was taken without comment.

Sam took a swig and handed it back. "It doesn't matter how I feel as long as we save him."

"We really need to look at this book to know what we're dealing with first Sam."

"You're kidding me right? You're happy to run headlong into any other job, guns blazing and damn the research but now we know for sure someone's gonna die today you want to stop and check? We find Stephen first then hit the books."

"What if she gets in your head again and I can't help you? How're we gonna deal with it if she can…."

"If she can what Dean, control me? Is that what this is about, the fact that you can't trust me anymore? You think I want this, to be like this…?" Sam held his arms out, then dropped them to his side as he looked away. "It's gonna come after you."

"Do you really think that I would just stand by and give up on you? Do you really think that's an option Sam?"

"I think that maybe I should get a say in what goes down Dean. You can't fix everything and maybe you won't be able to save me but there's more…" Sam felt his back hit against a tree trunk as his brother pushed his chest with an open hand.

Dean was breathing fast, one fist clenched so tightly his nails made marks on his palm as his anger was barely restrained. He knew he had to walk away. Now. Walk away before Sam realised how confused and scared and self destructive he really felt. The anger wasn't at Sam but unleashing it created the diversion that he needed. The anger was more about his helplessness and the way those few things he had always depended on, the things that made him whole, were being taken from him bit by bit. Sand slipping through his fingers.

Dad was gone. Sam hadn't been Sam. He had to save Sam but what if he couldn't, what if…and now Sam seemed like he was hell bent on giving up, taking risks. Making him promise things he should never have to promise. Sam's eyes so black and so hateful, he could still hear the words…

"Dean?"

Dean opened his eyes and realised he was still in Sam's face, one fist half raised as if he was considering a punch. The turmoil still clouded his mind but the look of concern that he saw in front of him, directed at him, was too much. His brother was hurt and here he was…he dropped his hand and his eyes, backing away.

"Dean?"

Dean knew they were tail spinning. It was an inevitable train wreck that was going to get them killed because they were both so turned around neither of them knew which way was up anymore. Maybe Sam was right, maybe they didn't matter as long as they got the job done.

"I guess it really won't matter either way if we're dead." Dean's face betrayed no emotion, his eyes offering no hint of the inner turmoil as he turned from his brother and started walking. He heard Sam follow, no further words spoken, and he hoped to God he would hear it if his brother fell.

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In silence they finally reached the cabin and cautiously came up alongside, Dean placed the duffel bag on he ground between them and crouched down to open the zip. He retrieved the EMF reader and turned to Sam, noticing the small red blood stain which had seeped through Sam's jeans at the knee. He stood up and checked the gun in his waistband as Sam did the same.

"You still got spare rounds?"

Sam patted his jacket. "Yeah."

Dean paused, there was no sound coming from inside but there was a car parked out front so they assumed the older man was home. He hoped they weren't too late. He wasn't sure how Sam would react if they were but he knew it might just push his younger brother over the edge. He didn't think he would be too far behind.

He looked at Sam's face, mouth drawn in a thin line and eyes hard – almost unreadable. Dean knew he was fighting pain and fatigue but he also knew this was a no win argument and they were both still going in. "You ready?"

"I'm ready."

They crept past the front window and around to the door which Dean discovered was unlatched. He turned to Sam and gave a nod then turned the doorknob and silently entered with his brother close behind. Guns drawn they made their way through the front room noticing nothing out of place and no reading from the EMF.

They both froze and pointed guns at the doorway ahead as heavy footsteps headed their way and then Stephen Oliver appeared before them steaming coffee cup in hand.

"What the hell you two trying to do sneaking around like some two bit burglars? Ain't you heard of knocking?" The older man had barely managed to hold onto the cup but had spilled most of its contents on the wooden floorboards.

"We're really sorry Stephen but we, um, weren't sure if you…" Sam's relief was evident but he was still at a loss as to how to explain themselves without panicking the man. Dean however had no such reservations.

"Sam here had a vision that this demon is coming after you. So here we are."

"Oh. Well I guess that ain't no surprise." He chuckled quietly. "Wouldn't a thought I'd last this long to tell ya the truth."

"We're going to stop it. We found the cave and we know there's some kind of black magic ritual, we've just got to work out exactly…"

Dean glanced sideways at his brother. "We'll do our best Stephen but I think it's best if you leave and come with us 'til we know exactly what it is we're dealing with here."

"I ain't running away. I'm old and I'm tired and this is my home, I ain't got nothing else to live for now. You boys do your best but if it don't work, don't you go doing something stupid y'hear."

Sam shook his head. "Please Stephen just come with us for now. We found a spell book that belongs to the witch that's doing this and I can work out what to do, how to stop it. I just need to check a few things and…"

"Do you know who it is?"

"Actually it's your friendly local bookshop owner. Obviously with too much time on her hands and a really kinky reading list."

Stephen looked at Dean in surprise. "Bala? Why? Why would she do this when she's lived here all her life?"

"Huh! Really? Exactly how long would you say she's lived here?" Dean began trying to recollect the information he had read the other night.

"She was born here and her family, well from what I know her family's always been here. Never saw much of 'em though, stuck to themselves. Bala was the only one of her kin I ever saw come into town but there's a few people 'round these parts that ain't exactly sociable."

"Has she changed much, does she look any different?"

"Changed? No, I gotta say that young woman hasn't aged a damn day since I met her. Good stock I guess."

"What d'you think Sam? You mentioned life force rituals. You think Bala might be a bit older than she's letting on?"

"It fits the pattern. These rituals are much stronger around the equinox, and using blood sacrifices will increase the force of the demon she summons. We've got to get back to the motel so I can work out the spell she's using. We can break this Dean, we just need to know what to use."

Dean turned back to Stephen. "Look if anyone can work this out it's Sam. Just come with us, until we get rid of this thing. One, two days tops and then you're back here no harm, no foul."

"Y'know most people'd think you boys were crazy, all this talk of witches and spells and demons. There would a been a time I would've chased you outta here myself with a coupla warning shots but hell here we are."

Stephen slapped his knee mildly amused and Dean grinned back at him. "So that's a yes? I'm thinking…" Dean frowned as the EMF detector started clicking from on top of the table.

"Dean I…?" Sam closed his eyes and tried to talk. He really needed to let Dean know that something wasn't right, something was very wrong. The air was stolen from his chest about the same time that he thought a hot knife had been wedged into his brain.

Dean's attention turned back to Sam the second his brother spoke, alarm bells already going off he drew his gun. He was moving even as Sam gasped like it was his last breath, panic clearly visible in his eyes. Dean was already holding his brother's arms as Sam yelled and tried to push his knuckles through his eyes blindly fighting against the firm grip.

"Sammy? Sam? What is it? Stephen get the salt container from our bag. Now!" Dean scanned the room but saw nothing.

Dean knew his brother was in too much pain to hear him and so his first priority was making sure he didn't hurt himself. That plan was thrown out the door however as the pressure in the cabin dropped and his brother still fought against him, making him lose his grip. Sam fell to the floor as Dean was thrown across the room landing heavily against a wooden dining table in the far corner.

As he tried to clear his vision and get back to his brother's side, a strangled scream from Stephen stopped him in his tracks. The older man was upright amidst the now overturned furniture, seemingly suspended just above the floor and unable to move. Before him, the demon Lamashtu snarled and slowly traced a knife like claw across his chest.

Dean reacted instinctively to the first sight of blood and lifted the gun loaded with salt. As he brought the gun around, it was knocked harshly to the right as he fired, spinning out of his hand, sending rock salt into the wall behind him. He felt a spray of tiny fragments cut the side of his face and squinted for a second against the brief sting. A second wave of energy had him flattened against the salt pocked wall unable to move as he watched the scene play out before him.

He stomach turned as the demon greedily drank the blood pouring from the wound and then opened another and still another cut. Stephen screamed, his face an open book of unadulterated pain. His eyes flared with pure fear and agony.

Sam was lying motionless on his back not two feet away, blood from the carnage decorating his shirt like a child's splatter painting. Dean's fear level reached critical mass as his body remembered this feeling of being trapped and helpless. He didn't even know how badly Sam was hurt and the rise and fall of his brother's chest did little to quell his concern.

The demon turned and let the ravaged body fall, licking blood from its mouth, yellow cat like eyes flickered to Dean then rested on Sam. A slender arm reached down with surprising speed and traced a line along the side of Sam's face and licked briefly at the wound before the demon omitted a growl and moved away.

"Leave him the hell alone. I will fucking kill you twice over if you've hurt him." Dean ground the words out as the pressure around him made even breathing painful. Barely were the words out of his mouth when the demon was suddenly inches away from his face. Putrid, fetid breath reeking of blood and death made him gag involuntarily. His nerve endings grated when it spoke, sounding like several voices at once.

"She that summons me will not allow this rite to be broken. You were foolish creatures to interfere with this ritual and whilst I am forbidden to kill yet at my desire I can still play."

"You and the witch will go to hell." Dean took a breath, his muscles now screaming from the force pushing against them. "I. Promise. You. Bitch." He yelled as a claw traced lightly along his side then sank inch deep into the skin above his hip, warm blood spilling down. The lions head coming closer to sniff at the coppery smell, drool slipping down the side its head.

"You are fortunate I am still bound but you will be chosen as my vessel. I have not traveled in a hunter before now. You will be privileged to die for the God Lamashtu and the other will watch and live in fear. The boy has already tasted the fear and look what it does to him. I will give you a taste of the pain." She raised a hand, squeezing it into a fist and Dean suddenly found himself unable to breathe at all.

"Well actually I think I'm over the fear." Sam voice only preceded the sound of gunshot by milliseconds and it was not enough for the demon to avoid the impact.

The mouth of the lion opened in a savage snarl, "I will return for you," before disappearing in a blast of air which knocked Sam off his feet. The pressure gone, Dean slid unceremoniously to the floor gulping air.

Sam groaned as he pushed up from the floor and looked around, his head swimming and pulsing with pain. He picked up the rifle and used it as a crutch to regain his feet, careful not to place his torn knee on the ground. He staggered over to his brother who hadn't moved but sat staring at the mangled body of Stephen Oliver.

"Dean?" Sam leaned heavily on the wall, the pain in his head making him feel nauseous. He then made the mistake of looking down and seeing the blood and gore that covered the front of his shirt and jeans. "Oh God."

Dean finally turned his head to look up at his brother who had leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He climbed slowly to his feet, ignoring the new burn in his side.

"I'm…it's all over me." Sam's distress was evident in his voice but seeing the horror on his face, Dean realised he had to get his brother out of there. He glanced at the claw mark on Sam's face which still dripped red to match the trail that marked his upper lip and chin where his nose must have bled again.

"C'mon, let's go."

"We should um…don't you think we outta…?" Sam gestured helplessly to the body.

Dean glanced from the bloodied corpse back to his brother who was now swaying on his feet. "There's nothing we can do here Sam. Let's go."

_tbc…_

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	5. Chapter 5

**Divided They Fall Together**

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from anything Supernatural.

_a/n: Hope you like..._

_As always, thanx for your reviews they are most welcome and much appreciated._

_lb._

**Chapter 5**

The drive back to their motel was a silent one. No music, no talking. Guilt and anger laced the air which neither boy could find the strength to overcome, let alone rise above to provide solace to the other.

Sam head was filled with what ifs, as he sought to second guess every action that may have changed their path enough to save a man's life. He must have missed something the demon had shown him, why else would he be allowed to see what it had done – what it had planned to do. Stephen had said the visions were part of its game but Sam should know better than anyone how the game was played.

Sam's head was also filled with fear. He hadn't saved Stephen but he had to make sure Dean was safe. He knew…they both knew, that the demon intended Dean as its last victim while Sam was destined to watch it happen. He had to come up with something fast but his thoughts were jumbled, an incessant hammer seemed to be beating on his skull.

Dean cut the engine and turned toward the passenger seat where Sam sat staring unblinking through the windscreen, seemingly oblivious to the fact they had stopped. His brother was trembling slightly, face pale and maybe breathing a little too fast. A line of dried blood down his face.

Dean opened his door and glanced back at dark eyes looking at him, searching for something he couldn't give. Dean paused as he held eye contact but then Sam turned away getting out of the car. He grabbed the bag from the backseat, feeling a bone deep weariness all over as he stretched inside the car.

"Go get cleaned up Sam. How bad's your knee?" Dean put the bag on his bed and tried to start working out what he needed to do. He ran a hand through his hair, wincing at the slight pull as the dried blood on his shirt stuck briefly to his skin. Pulling his jacket closed, he glanced across the room.

Sam had sat down on the end of his bed after walking into the room and now sat looking at his hands, making no attempt to move. Dean began to worry that maybe his brother was concussed after all, or worse. Sam was no stranger to visions but having something inside your head playing games – well he was no stranger to that either.

Dean felt a surge of emotion bubble up from within, he knew his brother was not handling this well and so help him, he was going to kill this witch. Human or not, she was gonna be ended.

"Sammy?"

"We didn't save him Dean. Hell we haven't saved anyone on this job, just gone from one body to the next. I've gotta try and get in her head or the demons and work out who…we know there's two more victims. We just don't' know both so if I can…"

"No way Sam. Are you kidding me?" We've got to find out how to stop them messing with your head. I need you with me not passed out on the sidelines." Not writhing in agony and pain in front of me while I watch useless to help you.

"Dean it's coming after you and I'm not…I'm gonna do whatever it takes."

"Whatever it takes huh? So you figure being controlled by this demon should be part of the game plan now? Well you need to make your mind up Sam, 'cause last time I checked that was the last thing you wanted."

"That's not what I meant, I wouldn't…"

The desperate look in Sam's eyes was enough for Dean to regain a little balance as he realised his brother wasn't up for this, not now. He knew his words were harsh, prodding wounds still tender and open but he had to shut that line of thinking down anyway he could.

"Look Sam, we need to go through this grimoire and find out more about the ritual, what we're dealing with and how to stop it. First though, we need to get cleaned up. Go have a shower and I'll grab us something to eat. Then we work. "

Sam felt at a loss. Thoughts and feelings from Minnesota were resurfacing and becoming confused with this job, with his continued failure and fear. He knew he wasn't thinking clearly but any thoughts he did have kept coming back to the fact that his brother was in danger. At least what Dean was saying made sense and maybe a shower would clear his head a little.

"Yeah." Sam took a breath, still staring at his hands. "You okay? You saw it all didn't you, how he died?"

Dean picked his keys back up from the table and paused as he opened the door, "I won't be long." His phone rang as the door closed behind him.

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Dean had driven to Cougars in record time, not wanting to leave Sam at all really but knowing they had to keep their strength up. Unfortunately it had still seemed to take forever by the time his order was ready to go. He parked the car and grabbed the bags of food then walked around and opened the trunk, rummaging around in the first aid supplies until he found what he needed. Sam was showered and already at his laptop, the grimoire lying in a salt circle on the table when Dean walked in the room.

Dean closed the door with his foot and paused mid stride as he took in the salt and various charms and symbols surrounding the book, some actually drawn into the tables' surface. His brother had been busy in the time he had been gone.

"I figured you were right Dean, at least until we know how to control it anyway so I'm hoping this will block the link between the witch and the book." He gestured towards the table. "I don't know how long it will hold cause we're dealing with a pretty ancient power but it's worth a try."

"Good to see you inner artist is coming in handy there Sam. But how're we gonna look through the book without breaking its protection?"

I'm just about to check the Key of Solomon 'cause I remember Bobby talking about something called a Shadow Sphere where anything inside the symbol is concealed and contained. If we draw one big enough to work in, it should stop Bala from being able to use the grimoire as a direct link. She won't be able to use us to see what we're doing."

"But she still knows we've got it."

"Not much we can do about that now Dean."

"Okay then so I guess we've got a deadline." Dean finally decided to deposit the bags of food on the end of his bed and turned to face his brother as he unzipped and removed his jacket.

"Yeah we…God you're hurt." Sam's train of thought was tossed in a new direction as he was shocked to see the lower part of his brother's shirt bloodied. "Let me see."

"Sam it's…"

"Don't Dean please. Let me see." Sam rose from the chair and proceeded to lift his brother's shirt. The puncture didn't look too bad but he mentally notched up another point against himself for not noticing earlier. "I didn't know, I…let me clean it up."

"Sam it's nothing okay. I'll clean it when I have a shower, its fine."

"Yeah", Sam said softly as Dean walked past the food and retreated to the bathroom with a handful of clean clothes. "It always is."

"Hey?"

Dean paused closing his eyes. "What Sam?"

"Who rang before?"

Dean turned to face his brother having forgotten about the earlier call. "Bobby. He was just checking in."

"Checking up on us you mean." Sam grinned wearily. "He okay?"

Dean smirked in return. "Yeah, checking up and he's fine too."

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It was just after five am and both boys were still hunched at the small table which now sat within a large symbol that had been chalked on the tiles. At various points of the sphere shaped pattern, black candles flickered and cast surreal shadows around the room. A ring of salt embedded with charms surrounded the outermost points of the symbol.

Dean unconsciously held his left arm against his body to minimise the ache, his hand pressing into the still sore tear in his flesh from the demons' claw. At Sam's insistence he had stuck a small gauze patch over the top of the cut, more to make his brother stop fussing than anything.

Sam sat with one leg propped up on a chair, the leg of his jeans rolled up exposing his injured knee. Dean had fashioned an ice pack using a tea towel from the kitchen and the ice cubes from the tray in the small fridge in their room. Sam's knee was swollen but the stitches had only pulled a little and the ice would help. They were both worse for wear but had caught a couple of hours rest and were cleaned and fed at least. It could be worse Dean thought, groaning inwardly at tempting fate.

They had just finished loading their guns with a modified batch of blessed salt rounds, adding to the mix a repelling incantation which should strengthen the effect. Sam now worked between the grimoire and the laptop whilst Dean referenced what Sam had translated using the various books they had acquired, many from Bobby's own collection.

"Okay so we've got seven deaths in seven days, the last shell a vessel. I guess by shell they mean the last victim." Dean refused to acknowledge out loud that by all accounts that was meant to be him. "On Mabon's eve the seven witches will walk as human - I thought we were only dealing with one witch here Sam?"

"We are, Lamashtu apparently had seven names and was also referred to as the seven witches…once the last victim is chosen the demon uses them to…" Kill - torture - Sam really couldn't bring himself to say them out loud. "It has until midnight to use their body, its reward I guess, and then they die when the rite is finished and Lamashtu is released." Sam hesitated, his fear increasing the more he read.

"Well these charms from Bobby should stop any actual possession. So if we…"

"Dean whatever black magic this witch is using, I don't think the charms are gonna be enough man. This is not like anything we've ever come across."

"Yeah, looks like Bala has some powerful mojo in play here Sam but what we do know is how to fight demons. I don't believe I'm saying this but I think our best bet is gonna be destroying the demon first – from the looks of it our evil God Lamashtu has a pretty powerful enemy. We find a way to call it and let it do our work for us."

"Yeah I guess but it's still risky, we're playing with black magic here and we're talking about summoning another demon God. We've also gotta hope we can call Pazuzu without a blood sacrifice. Let's just hope the enemy of our enemy is our friend."

"I know Sam but I think we're kinda running out of options, Bala's spell is already cast. We find a summoning rite in the grimoire to call Pazuzu**,** we use Bala's own magic against her and it's gonna hit hard."

"Using a grimoire against its owner should actually weaken their power but I don't know how much. You know we're gonna have to finish this at the cave, it's the only place that's got everything we need." Sam felt tired just thinking about the return journey.

"You nearly finished with the spell?"

Sam rubbed a hand across one eye and sat back in the chair. "The Latin's not a problem but finding translations for Sumerian, well it's a dead language to start with but each group of letters implies more than one meaning. Part of this is gonna be guesswork but yeah, I think I've got most of the ritual."

"Well your best guess…" Dean paused as the pressure seemed to increase in the room making his ears pop. He saw that Sam had noticed too and both drew their salt loaded weapons from the table as they stood.

Without warning, the door burst open and a blast of air scattered papers from the table and extinguished the candles. Small smoke trails wafted up from the hot wax. Dean glanced down and saw the salt circle had been broken which was so not a good thing. "Stay inside the sphere Sam, salt's gone on this side."

Dean noticed the rotting smell first, right before the demon materialised nearly in his face. He instinctively draw back but realised he had nowhere to go as he felt the chair hit the back of his legs. His face however showed no sign of panic as his finger squeezed the trigger.

For the second time in as many days, the gun was ripped from his hand as it fired and he ducked instinctively. "Crap."

Dean heard Sam get off a shot as well and he turned to see his brother pushed up against the wall, then in the same instant he was thrown across the room to fall in a tangled heap of arms and legs. He didn't get up.

Sam couldn't see past the demon but he heard his brother hit the wall and strained to hear for any further movements. Nothing. He turned his head a little to escape the rotting smell in his face and he felt beads of sweat run down his face when he realised what was about to happen. He kept his face blank, tried to sound cocky. Without thinking, tried to channel Dean.

"So why do the whole movie reel thing? Why bother playing this game if we can't change the outcome?" Keep it talking, maybe he could learn something. Maybe delay the pain a little.

"Why not just kill us?" Crap, maybe a little too much Dean.

"The Summoner wants you to watch, insists on it. Watching your spirit break as you have the knowledge but are powerless to use it, that is just part of the game. The old man was strong, entertaining in his futile efforts. He could live with the pain but most seek death. Beg for it in the end. This is not something we have to do, it is something we want to do."

"So you can't kill more than seven but you can torture…"

"Enough."

Sam heard the roar and felt something push its way into his head. White hot, unmerciful claws seemed to tear into his brain as images flashed so quickly his stomach churned. He bit his tongue as his eyes rolled back in his head. Sam tried to push back with his mind, and for a second he thought it was working. He couldn't breathe as the force suddenly increased tenfold and he didn't even realise he was screaming.

"Such heroics. Such arrogance." The demon shimmered before him, leaning in closer to whisper, "Such stupidity."

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The sound of his brother screaming could have probably brought Dean back from the dead. His body was programmed to react and his mind was full of protectkillsurvive. In a glance he saw everything he needed to assess the situation and the hunter within took over. Sam, demon, gun. Sam.

He rolled to his side and felt the cool metal of the gun fit into his hand like a well worn glove. Comforting. He crawled to the table, so his shot would be angled away from Sam who seemed to be convulsing against the wall, eyes white as his pupils rolled back in his head. Dean trained his shot on the demon, ignoring with difficulty the pain filled groans coming from his brother.

Dean fired the gun and noticed with no small amount of satisfaction that the modified salt round had made a direct hit. The demon was just gone. Sam seemed to slide down the wall in slow motion.

"Sammy?"

"Oh I think he's a little under the weather at the moment." Dean's blood ran cold.

Dean saw a shadow from the corner of his eye as he spun around to face the door and fired. Bala's form shimmered in the doorway but showed no sign of being hurt or even hit. Damn.

Dean raised the gun again. "You want a taste of what your little pet got?"

"You can try boy but it's hard to hit something that's not really there. Even for a hunter."

Dean knew she was speaking the truth when he realised he could see faint shapes right through the middle of her body. "Well it's been nice but if you've come to give the whole you're not gonna stop me speech, it's been done before. Can't say I find it that entertaining."

"No, just here to play with the food before it gets eaten." She laughed low, her dark eyes flashing anger. "You should feel privileged, Lamashtu has chosen you to be the vessel on Mabon's Eve. Might hurt a bit though and she also seems to have taken a liking to your brother. She doesn't normally hurt the watcher as much but I will let her have that pleasure."

"You really think we're gonna sit by and watch you finish this? Your biggest mistake was killing innocents. Your second biggest mistake was hurting my brother. You won't walk away from this bitch. I can guarantee that."

"I knew what you were the moment I met you. Do you think staggering into your arms was a coincidence? You never even noticed I drew blood from you. You might not die until midnight tomorrow but for the trouble you have caused and for taking what is a part of me," the witch's gaze fell upon the grimoire on the table, "I will make sure you both suffer."

As the image faded, his attention shifted away from the door. Without any time to react, the grimoire flew from the table into the waiting arms of Bala who now stood solid where the image had previously. She wasted no time on pleasantries this time obviously realising she was vulnerable to attack.

As she moved from the door she paused, "You might want to return to the scene of the last crime – if you want to play the game. Or we can just play with Sam." A flick of her wrist pushed Dean back to allow her escape.

Dean didn't waste time going after her or acknowledging the fear her words had dredged up. He staggered over and slammed the door, then hurried over to the still body on the floor.

"Sam? God Sam, what's it done to you?" Dean checked and found a fairly steady pulse, trying to ignore that blood seeping from his brother's nose and mouth. Not wanting to move him too much, Dean fetched a wet facecloth and proceeded to wipe the blood away hoping the coldness would bring Sam around. Nothing.

He didn't think any bones were broken but from the deep purple colouring on Sam's torso he had maybe bruised a couple of ribs. Still not enough to keep him out this long.

"C'mon Sammy."

Dean sat on the floor next to his brother for fifteen minutes, then paced the room for another five. He couldn't bear to leave him on the floor any longer so carefully moved Sam onto his bed, the movement still eliciting no response. He checked again for some injury he might have missed, something he could see, something he could fix. He absently rubbed at the lump forming at his own hairline where he had contacted something obviously hard, wincing when his fingers found bruised flesh.

He busied himself for another five minutes as he bandaged Sam's knee properly, relieved at least the stitches had held throughout this latest abuse. He checked his brother's pulse yet again, then sat on the edge of the bed, hands clenched.

Dean couldn't just sit any longer so he opened the laptop and continued the work they had been doing. If he finished this invocation using the spells Sam had translated from the witches own grimoire as a guide, they could finish this for good. The only doubt was whether they could summon the deity they needed without a host but maybe he could sweeten the pot. After all, what demon could resist his body?

Another twenty minutes and Dean was pretty sure he had it finished. He printed a copy and left the document open on the laptop. Sam hadn't stirred. He seemed to take longer to recover each time and Dean just hoped he would be okay when he woke.

Dean stood for a minute, checking over Sam one last time and covering him with a blanket thankful his condition still seemed stable. He was torn between leaving his brother unprotected and vulnerable and trying to save the next victim.

He really had no choice here. If he didn't go, Sam would be in danger again anyway. He knew the witch was baiting him but he couldn't not try and save someone. He knew Sam would want to try. He also knew if he failed then he was next and Sam might not be able to stop it in time. It was better if he kept his brother out of this one, Sam didn't need to know where this was going down.

Dean packed his duffel and shoved the printed page in his back pocket then salted around the bed and window for whatever good it would do. He would have to lay salt under the door from the outside. He paused to type something on the laptop, his fingers hesitant over the keyboard and his face drawn in concentration. Then he walked out the door, the sun just rising in the sky.

_tbc…_

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	6. Chapter 6

**Divided They Fall Together**

_Disclaimer: I don't own it or profit from anything Supernatural._

_a/n: I got nothing…_

**Chapter 6**

The sun was too hot and too bright. Somehow the light seemed to be seeping in past his eyelids no matter how hard he tried to squeeze them closed. Maybe if he turned his head it would go away.

Sam's mouth filled with saliva as the movement made him want to vomit. He gasped and swallowed, a thin layer of sweat breaking out over his body as he regained enough control not to throw up. God it hurt.

He was almost too afraid to move again but as the gears started shifting and turning in his mind the alarm bells started ringing. He steeled himself and rolled to his side where he used one arm to prop himself up in a half sitting position. The pain rolled around inside his skull and he could hear himself moan, no thought at all about trying to hold it in.

"Dean?" It came out more as a whisper. He raised a hand, rubbing at the cut on his face.

Sam squinted at the clock and tried to recall the last thing he remembered. It was just after 9am and oh God, Dean had been thrown against the wall. He stood shakily and walked around the bed so he could check but no Dean. Thankfully no blood either.

He picked up his cell phone and dialed his brother but it went straight to voicemail. Damn. "Dean where are you? Please man, call me back when you get this."

As he looked around the room, he also remembered the images that had flashed through his mind before the pain had taken him away. Harley. Harley was the next victim then Dean. Sam shielded his eyes to look out the window and confirmed his suspicion that the Impala was gone. He turned away from the glare and saw the bloodstained facecloth on the bedside table next to a glass of water and some tablets and slowly sat down again to swallow the pills.

"Where are you Dean?"

That's when he noticed the open laptop.

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Dean sat still trying not to notice the cramping in his legs from holding his position for so long or the dull pain above his hip from the demon's claw. He had driven the Impala onto a dirt access road, well before reaching the cabin and had walked the rest of the way. He saw no signs anyone else was here and a quick look inside confirmed that fact. Nothing to see except for body and blood right where they had left it.

Couldn't save everyone.

His mind wandered, replayed their last conversation in this place.

"_I really think we've done enough here Sam. Let's go." _

Done enough? They hadn't done anything but watch the slaughter. Sam covered in gore, his face cut where the demon had pressed a claw to it. Sam's face reflecting the horror he felt inside. God he hoped Sam was alright. He thought briefly about turning his phone back on but didn't want to risk it ringing at the wrong moment. Didn't want to risk his brother trying to find out where he was either.

Dean's hand absently went to his shoulder, surprised at how bad the ache had become but maybe he hadn't allowed himself to feel it before now. "C'mon" he growled to himself. Now was not the right time either, he had to focus.

He stayed concealed in the thick underbrush about sixty feet from the front door and waited.

It was nearly another hour before he heard the sound of an engine approaching. The old station wagon drove right on up to the cabin and the driver beeped the horn before getting out. Dean was on full alert, expecting something to happen. He squinted at the driver as he headed towards the cabin and realised it was Harley from their motel. He would have to move, couldn't let the poor guy walk in on that little house of horrors.

"Hey Harley!" Dean stood and approached, waving his arm in greeting and trying to appear casual.

"Hi there Marshall, you scared me for a minute there, didn't see no car." The young man, frowned a little. "How did you get out here, 'cause I can give you a ride back if ya want."

"No it's fine, my car's just parked round back a bit. What brings you out this way?"

"Just doing Bala a favour delivering Stephen's magazines. He gets them hunting magazines each month and I sometimes do the deliveries round town. Earn some extra cash y'know."

"Well how about you leave them with me and I'll take them in 'cause Stephen's just…"

"Just what hunter? Dead?"

It sounded like the voice was right behind him and he spun, gun drawn in an instant and ready to fire, making sure he kept in front of Harley.

"What…who was that?"

"Just stay with me here okay, stay behind me." Jesus where was the damn thing. He swiveled around trying to look in all directions at once. "Tell me if you see anything but I want you to slowly move back towards you car. Harley? Harley you need to…" Dean glanced back at the man and then turned fully, looking for a clean shot.

It had him by the neck, savage mouth drawn back in a snarl. Dean took the shot, a good shot and the lion woman disappeared like before, dropping Harley to the ground. "C'mon man let's get you in the car and outta here. I sure hope…"

Dean stopped. He was pretty sure you couldn't turn your head that much without doing some major damage but Harley was still looking at him, eyes open like everything was normal. Eyes wide open, staring, unblinking.

Harley definitely wouldn't be getting in the car by himself.

When did that happen? It was over before it had started and he had a feeling it was all part of the game plan. Except he suddenly felt too tired to play anymore.

Dean squatted down beside the body and ghosted his fingers across the unseeing eyes, closing them one last time. "Can't save anyone."

He stood and picked Harley up underneath the arms and dragged him backwards towards his car, placing him behind the wheel and closing the door. He found an old towel in the back of the car and stuffed it half inside the fuel tank then lit the end of it and walked away. At least it wouldn't get his body, drink his blood.

Dean barely flinched when the fuel tank erupted, consuming the car in a massive fireball and sending debris raining down all around him.

Huh, must've been a full tank.

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Sam sat down at the laptop and noticed that Dean had finished the summoning spell they needed, along with the black magic ritual. The small printer was still connected so he pressed the print button and started looking around for what he needed. He couldn't wait for Dean but God he'd feel better if he knew Dean was alright. He grabbed the printed page and decided to go and check reception to see if Harley was in yet.

As Sam picked the paper up he noticed another page had printed, the spell must be longer than he thought. He started to look over it quickly so he wasn't unprepared, squinting as the words seemed to blur and move on the page. He read the first sentence then sat down hard on the bed.

_Sammy_

_If you're reading this I guess you woke up. I didn't want to leave you there but I didn't know what else to do and I've got a shot at saving the next victim. I think it's probably better if you don't walk in at the wrong moment in case things go pear shaped so I'm not telling you where I'm going. I don't want you getting hurt again._

_I get it Sam. I really do know why you made me make that promise. I was angry at Dad and you for asking me 'cause I'd rather die than kill you but I understand if it ever came to that, you would already be gone. That there was absolutely no other chance to save you. I just didn't want to think about it ever coming to that I guess - I still don't._

_That's why I'm asking you to make me the same promise, I know you'll understand. If this demon gets a hold of me, you make sure you take me out before I hurt anyone. Before I hurt you, 'cause you know that's what will happen. I don't want to be what we hunt, not even for a day and it'll kill me when it's finished anyway. At least you can make sure I go out on my terms._

_Promise me Sam._

_Don't hate me too much._

_Dean._

_PS. I'm proud to be your brother._

_PPS. Look after the Impala or I'll haunt your ass._

_PPPS. I'll probably haunt your ass anyway. Bitch!_

Sam drew a ragged breath, unaware of the tears that ran down his face. This wasn't fair, how could Dean ask him to do this? He had sent himself on a suicide mission and he was acting like he was dead already. "You jerk." Sam said it without any anger at all.

In fact Sam knew exactly how Dean could ask him 'cause now Dean knew exactly how he felt. Funny thing was, now he knew exactly how Dean felt and he couldn't quite work out why he felt worse. He did the only thing he could though, the only honorable thing.

"I promise Dean" he whispered, jaw set hard. "It won't matter though, 'cause I'm gonna save your ass first."

Sam reached for his phone again.

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Dean sat in the car looking at the phone in his hand. He switched it on and was relieved to see he had two messages from Sam, one less than five minutes ago. Dean closed his eyes for a minute with relief knowing Sam had woken up. He turned the phone off again without listening to the messages. They would only complicate matters at the moment. He knew what he had to do and he needed a clear head. Dean also knew that Sam really wouldn't appreciate his plan of attack.

He would get to the cave and try the spell they had worked out to break the summoning. If that was a bust, he would summon Pazuzu and offer his body as a temporary host if he had to, at least then he would be assured Lamashtu would be taken unawares. Pazuzu would then take the demon bitch out and leave or Dean would insure Pazuzu was trapped and died with him and that would be that. With Lamashtu out of the picture, Bala wouldn't last beyond the Equinox without her renewed life force and Sam would have his headspace to himself again. Simple.

It was a win, win situation really and he did have a chance of coming out of this alive. He just wouldn't be placing any bets on it just yet, given the odds.

Dean patted his pocket to make sure he still had the spell, the black candles were in his bag but the other ingredients were in the cave. He had to get there soon before his brother cut his losses and headed there himself. Dean hesitated briefly then left the keys in the ignition, slinging the duffel over his shoulder as he closed the door and headed into the forest.

One minute he was mid stride, focusing his thoughts on what he was about to do. The next he realised there was a sharp pain in his left shoulder and he was falling to the ground. Dean was never usually one to be too stunned to move but he must have sat there a full ten seconds before he recovered enough to react. He drew his gun out carefully and scanned the surrounding area. Nothing.

If it wasn't for the arrow protruding from the top of his left shoulder he could've just thought he had imagined the whole thing. Of course there was also the blood and pain but he would get to that in a minute.

"So this all you got bitch?" Dean waited, half expecting another arrow to materialise out of thin air but the only answer was silence. He should really try and stop provoking the angry witch but that just wasn't the Dean Winchester way.

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Sam was almost too calm as he drove the battered old sedan along the road although his white knuckles bore testament to the death grip he had on the wheel. In his head he was organising in alphabetical order the names he was going to call his brother when he found him. He figured it was already gonna take him fifteen minutes and he was only up to the letter F. It was also a good way to distract himself from the fear that Dean was hurt or in trouble. Or both, knowing Dean.

He had gone to the reception desk only to be told that Harley wasn't rostered back on until 1pm and he had gone to do some deliveries for Bala. The young girl was most helpful and went on to tell Sam that Harley's first stop was out at Stephen Oliver's place.

Sam wasted no time flashing his US Marshall ID and requesting use of her car, which of course was given. He wasn't sure how long she would keep this information a secret as he requested but he had no other options. Trying to hot wire one of the few cars around with a headache the size of a large continent was going to take too long. He cleared their room out of habit, packing their belongings in the small car and was on his way in ten minutes.

God Dean you better be okay. Sam squinted as one road became two blurry ones and although he slowed down a little, he refused to stop. Biting back the acrid taste in his mouth, he rolled down the window hoping the fresh air would help clear his head enough to stay on the road.

He slowed down as he approached the last turn, puzzled by the smell of smoke. The cause soon became apparent as the smoldering husk of a burnt out car sat deserted in front of him. Sam slowly got out, gun in hand and approached the vehicle which was giving off a lot of heat. He grimaced when he realised there was a figure still sitting behind the wheel, burnt beyond recognition.

"What the hell happened here Dean?"

Refusing to even contemplate it was anyone other than Harley, Sam moved on up to the cabin and through the front door. The stench hit him before he remembered to breathe through his mouth but he could see no sign that anyone else had been in there. Sam only just made it back outside and onto the dirt before his stomach finally gave in and he hunched over, body heaving and bruised ribs protesting the movement.

Sam bit back a moan standing up as his weight shifted onto his damaged knee, wiping a hand across his watering eyes. He headed round the side of the cabin but there was still no sign of his brother.

Returning to the borrowed vehicle he started driving back, trying to figure out where his brother would have gone and deciding he would just have to head on up to the cave. It was only when he glanced in the rearview mirror trying to locate the access road they had used before that he saw a glint, a brief flash of light that could have been sun off metal. He laboriously completed a three point turn and drove off onto the even narrower road, relieved to see the Impala, sure now he was on Dean's trail.

As he approached the Impala on the driver's side, he noticed the keys were still in the ignition and reached in to remove them. As he turned from the car he also saw something lying on the ground near the trunk and his fear was confirmed as he bent down to pick up his brother's jacket. His shirt was lying underneath, also bloodstained.

Dean was hurt.

Both the jacket and the shirt had a hole in the shoulder and blood had soaked into the material of both garments. Dean had obviously gotten the first aid kit out and its contents were still lying on the ground behind the car but why had he left in such a hurry? Why hadn't he called?

Several bloodied gauze patches had been discarded and a bottle of holy water lay unopened on its side, the contents untouched. As Sam quickly transferred their gear from the small car, he threw the kit back into the trunk of the Impala, stuffing a few more supplies in his jacket to take along. Putting his backpack on the ground, Sam stuffed Dean's jacket inside and then he saw the arrow in the dirt.

The shaft was quite plain except for the symbols carved along the wood which Sam didn't recognise. The arrowhead, made from smooth flint and covered with blood, also gave off a strong rank smell. Sam thought back to the herbs they found in the cave and realised the arrow was an elf shot. Dean had been poisoned.

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Dean left his bag where it was and staggered back to the Impala. He would have to clean this up before he got going. It hurt but at least it didn't seem to have hit anything major, it had even missed the bullet wound. It was his lucky day.

He popped the trunk and got the supplies out, sitting on the ground behind the car. The arrow was going to have to come out first so he could get his jacket off and dress the wound. Dean bent his arm up and pressed his left hand against the skin surrounding the entry wound as best he could, even flexing his left hand sent a jarring pain down the nerve endings in his shoulder.

He gripped the middle of the wooden shaft with his right hand and pulled straight back, giving himself no time to think about it.

When he opened his eyes he was lying on his right side in the dirt and realised he had passed out. He sat up slowly and saw the blood which would explain why he felt a bit lightheaded. The jacket came off next, then his long sleeved shirt and he was panting with exertion by the time he had finished. Grabbing some thick gauze, he reached under his t-shirt and held them over the wound, taking a minute to close his eyes.

Holy water, he had to use the holy water just in case but he was sure the procedure was written in his Dad's journal, there was some spell he needed. He placed the plastic bottle next to him as he glanced at the bloodied projectile. "Freakin' elf shot. Crap. Maybe not so much my lucky day."

This wasn't exactly factored into his grand scheme but he would work with it, wasn't too bad he just had to stop the bleeding and get…help? Dean shook his head a little as a wave of dizziness blurred his vision. As a slice of pain in his shoulder spread down his arms and momentarily took his breath away.

He had to get going. He remembered now.

The gauze patches were soaked red but the bleeding had slowed so he got clean ones and stuck them in place this time, clumsily using some medical tape. He put another layer of dressing on and finally covered it with adhesive tape that would be a bitch to get off.

He could feel the sweat pouring off him now, which was probably good cause if he'd lost too much blood he'd be cold. Wouldn't he? Both hands were shaking, as he pulled his t-shirt back down.

He had to move, couldn't waste any more time or someone would get hurt. Dad would kill him if he took too long. He stood too quickly and went down on his knees, grunting as the impact jarred his shoulder. He paused to stare at the plastic bottle on the ground beside him for a second, a vague memory surfacing briefly but disappearing before it could be of any use.

Dean walked into the forest again.

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Sam picked up the arrow, carefully placing it in his bag. He had been pretty young the last time they had come across elf shots but he still remembered. He needed to use the flint with a potion to negate the poison and the Latin cleansing rite to end whatever spell had been cast. He picked up his pack and headed towards the cave.

It wasn't far at all from the car and he nearly walked right past it. He almost wished he hadn't seen it 'cause it only confirmed the fact that something was very wrong. Dean would never have left his bag behind, not without taking the essentials, not going into a hunt.

"Dean?" Sam's shout echoed a little but there was no reply. "Dean?"

Sam rifled through Dean's bag and retrieved the journal and extra medical supplies along with a few other items before realising he couldn't carry all the weapons but he couldn't leave them either - Dean would kill him. Cursing, he lost another fifteen minutes as he returned to the car, safely storing the bag in the trunk and then hurriedly retraced his steps.

As the forest became thicker and harder to negotiate, Sam felt the pulse thrumming in his head as his heart rate increased. His brother was hurt, poisoned and had no supplies…he had to find him.

_Promise me Sam._

Against all his training, the feeling of panic was starting to overtake him, almost overwhelm him. He knew he had to keep his head clear for this but…this was bad. It always was, it never stopped.

C'mon Sam get a grip. What was on the arrowhead, what's it doing to Dean. His mind raced, okay probably Henbane or Thornapple from the smell, or both. He tried to picture the text in his head, they both caused dizziness, delirium and hallucinations depending on the strength. If the dose of Henbane was high it could also cause convulsions. And death.

"Dean!" Sam reached again for his phone.

_tbc…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Divided They Fall**

_Disclaimer: I don't own it or profit from anything Supernatural._

_a/n: deangirl1, dimensions-in-space, apieceofcake, Maz101, KatieLB, SamandDeanWinchester, friendly, FraidyCat, Youngest Ones Rule and the rebellious krimson – a BIG THANK YOU!!_

_lb._

**Chapter 7**

They must be around here somewhere but Dean didn't want to call out and alert whatever they were hunting. He knew he was already in enough shit and was gonna get one hell of a dressing down for getting himself lost. He was useless, and if Sam or Dad got hurt 'cause he wasn't there to back them up he would never forgive himself. What the hell were they hunting, how could he not know this?

He blinked the sweat out of his eyes trying to clear his vision but it didn't help. There was a movement to his left, just a glimpse of something and he brought the gun up wondering why his left hand didn't come up to steady his aim. He fired anyway, no time for second guesses in this line of work.

Even the small recoil of the handgun stole his breath for a minute as his shoulder flared with fire. Dean looked down and noticed with some detachment that his dark green t-shirt was stained with red. He must have screwed up and they left him. That would explain it. Dad needed to get Sammy away so Dean wouldn't get them killed.

He looked around and saw a flash of movement, this time he was sure it was closer and he fired one handed, not even bothering to try and raise his left arm this time. He groaned aloud as the fire erupted again.

He felt so goddamn hot and thirsty, he rested his good shoulder against a tree for a minute and closed his eyes. The voice he heard was familiar, almost comforting until he listened to what it was saying.

"I can see it in your eyes Dean. You're worthless. You couldn't save your Dad and deep down you know that you can't save your brother. They'd have been better off without you."

"No!" Dean opened his eyes panting. "Sammy?"

"No Dean just me."

Dean turned his head. "Dad?"

"Yeah son. I want you to watch out for Sammy okay?"

"Yeah Dad, you know I will. You're scaring me." The words were familiar, rehearsed somehow.

"Don't be scared Dean. There's something I need to tell you. Something important you need to promise you'll do for me son. Sammy is in danger and you need to protect him, save him. It won't be easy and it might not even be possible but Dean, I need you to promise me if you can't save him you'll kill him."

"I…I can't. He's my brother."

"Well it's your fault y'know. You're gonna have to cut little Sammy up cause you're alive."

"What? No. I didn't…"

"Remember Dean, what's dead should stay dead. YOU SHOULD BE DEAD."

Dean flinched, closing his eyes as the words cut through him. "I'm sorry Dad. I should've stayed dead."

Dean opened his eyes and reached out, confused. He was alone again. He was always alone, everyone always ended up leaving. He clutched at his shoulder, the gun slipping unnoticed from his hand. God it hurt. He had to find Sammy, find Dad. Make it right.

He pushed off from the tree and kept moving.

The trees were swaying and shifting and Jesus when did it get this hot. He winced as his left shoulder and arm suddenly tightened as muscles seized and contracted painfully. Dean held his elbow in a death grip until it passed, his breath coming in shallow pants.

The notion that something was really wrong tainted his thoughts but remained out of reach as the poison ebbed through his body. The swaying turned into spinning as the world seemed to tilt on an axis that his now fevered brain could not comprehend.

"I'll do better. I'm sorry." He whispered as his knees thudded into the dead leaves carpeting the ground. "Please don't leave me."

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Sam headed towards the cave hoping he was following the path his brother had taken. Until he heard the gunshot to his left and started running.

Okay maybe not the best thing running blindly towards the sound of gunfire he told himself but he didn't slow down until the second shot echoed through the crisp air, and only then to get his bearings. He figured the first shot had been less than a quarter of a mile away and as he got closer he decided on speed over a more stealthy approach. He wasn't sure what he would be running into but he was assuming Dean was the one shooting, so he must be in some kind of danger.

Sam didn't get any warning at all, just found himself suddenly on the ground. He felt his knee pull painfully as stitches were stretched taut and then his head felt like it was about to split open as well.

"No, no. God not now." He managed to shrug the bag off his shoulder and braced his hands on the ground. He yelled as he pushed back with his mind, he had to try. He felt the push come back stronger, like fingers grasping and pulling. "No!" Images of Dean, still and bloodied, pushed past his defenses.

Sam felt his arms shaking from his own weight as he tried desperately to fight for control. He couldn't push it out, he had to change tactics like a physical fight. He concentrated on crushing the presence in his mind, unmindful of the blood running down his face. Trying to ignore the pain that was seeping into every inch of his thoughts as he felt his consciousness slipping.

"No, no, no…"

His face suddenly hit the ground and he only just managed to turn his head to the side, tasting dirt and blood. Sucking in gasps of air he felt his ribs protesting but he couldn't slow his breathing. Sam lay on the ground unable to move or even form a coherent thought for several minutes. Until he realised he was alone. The demon was no longer in his mind, the images of Dean were gone.

Dean.

He pushed with his arms to lift himself from the ground but fell back with a harsh cry. Rolling to the side was more manageable and allowed him to ease into a sitting position, one arm across his torso the other clutched his throbbing knee. Don't be such a girl, he chided himself using his brother's words to spur him into standing and lifting the bag gingerly to place the strap onto his shoulder.

Thoughts of Dean flashed through his mind again, this time prompted by his own memory of what he had been shown. How much of it was fabricated or truly destined he didn't know and it didn't matter. Sam decided at that moment he had to believe you could change destiny.

For both their sakes.

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He heard the voice first. There was no mistaking who it was even though it was barely above a whisper and sounded too broken, too raw. He saw the gun lying discarded on the ground and bent slowly to retrieve it, clicking the safety on and placing it in his waistband.

He fought the urge to run straight in, he had to be careful in case it was a trap. He was able to restrain himself for a full four seconds before cautiously approaching. His movements were laboured but he managed to hunch down on one knee and place a hand on the shaking body in front of him.

"Dean?"

Sam gently rolled his brother from his side onto his back, supporting his head and seeing green glazed eyes watching him. "Hey, can you hear me? Dean, its Sam."

Dean's breathing increased and Sam placed a gentle hand on his chest, not wanting to move him too much until he had checked for more injuries.

"Don't you let it kill me Dad. Please."

"Dean? Oh God Dean, you gotta wake up. Please man, wake up." Sam was taken back to the cabin as Dean spoke those words. As he pleaded for his life and relived the agony. This wasn't fair, Dean shouldn't have to go through it again.

"What's dead should stay dead. What's dead should stay dead." The repetition stopped as Dean groaned in pain. As Sam watched, his brother's back arched as muscles seized in spasm.

Sam realised that Dean wasn't going to improve without help, wasn't even aware he was there. He had to get them to the cave and try to reverse this before the convulsions got worse.

When the tremors lessened, he lifted Dean's blood stained t-shirt and carefully slid it off to the side to check the arrow wound. The adhesive dressing was soaked through with now dried blood but Sam thought he may do more damage trying to remove it. He placed several more pieces of clean dressing over the top and then wrapped a thick crepe bandage over and around his brother's chest and shoulder to hold it in place. It was rough but it should maintain enough pressure to support the injury.

As Sam finally managed to get the jacket on over Dean's scratched arms, his brother stirred and started talking. "Did we kill it? Is Sammy hurt?"

"I'm right here Dean. I'm okay but you're hurt."

"Sammy?" For the first time since he had found him, Sam found Dean looking right at him. His elation was short-lived however as Dean continued.

"Where's Dad? We gotta find Dad. The Black Dog's still out there." Dean struggled to sit up, heat radiating from his body.

"Okay Dean, take it easy. We killed the Black Dog and…and Dad went back to get the car, move it closer for you. If you can walk, we can start going back and meet him." Sam hated having to do this, he felt guilty encouraging his brother's delusion that their father was still alive but he couldn't think of an alternative. He had to keep Dean calm and get him to the cave.

"Kay Sammy. Keep the gun close just in case, you remember how I taught you?"

Sam paused for a minute, then realised Dean was talking to a much younger version of himself. A boy that had just been shown by his big brother how to tuck a handgun in the waistband of his jeans so the grip was angled just right.

"Yeah Dean I remember." He helped his brother stand, putting Dean's right arm over his shoulders and hunching a little to relieve the ache in his own ribs.

"Ya doing good Sammy. Dad'll be proud."

Sam couldn't speak and he blamed the pain and fear and lack of sleep and anything else that came to mind. They set off slowly, Sam limping and carrying most of his brother's weight but thankful they were at least together. They were always stronger together.

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It felt like they had been traveling for days but Sam guessed they must be getting close. They were coming from a slightly different direction than before because Dean had initially wandered the wrong way but Sam still had the map that Stephen had marked for them.

Twice already Dean's body had shaken so badly, Sam had to lay him on the ground until the seizure passed. More times than he could count, Dean had asked about Dad and mistaken him for Dad a few times and even Bobby once. Dean drifted between hunts long gone and those uncomfortably too recent. Sometimes he was almost happy but most of the time his mind seemed to recall the most painful memories to twist and haunt him.

They had just begun to ascend a small hill when Dean suddenly stiffened and pulled away causing Sam to nearly lose his grasp on the older boy. "What is it?"

"Get away from me.' Dean struggled weakly against his brother's hold. "I know you're not him, you're not Sam."

Sam noticed Dean reach behind him obviously looking for his gun, which Sam knew wasn't there anymore. He held onto his brother's arms trying to calm him but stopped as soon as he realised he had caused pain to the shoulder wound and Dean flinched.

"Dean please, I don't want to hurt you. It's really me."

"You want me dead. Dad told me you don't need me, better without me. You…you shot me." Dean suddenly relaxed and the look in his eyes almost broke Sam into a million pieces. "Do it Sammy, better this way. I can't kill you and I'm tired. Please Sammy, I just want to go home."

Sam wrapped his arms around his brother and held on, hoping somehow Dean was in there and he could get through to him. He knew it was the poison and the delirium, blood loss, fatigue…this wasn't Dean talking. "I need you Dean. I need you here with me now. I know you're tired but I need you to stay with me. Please. I'm sorry, God I'm so sorry." Sam squeezed his eyes shut tight against the memories, the things he'd said, the things he'd done.

As Sam held on, he felt Dean's breathing hitch as his body began shivering. He recognised the all too familiar signal that another seizure was beginning and sat his brother on the ground without any resistance. This one hit hard, and as Sam held his brother's head in his lap he knew he was running out of time. The veins in Dean's neck stood out as he threw his head back against the pain, his heels and shoulders the only parts touching the ground.

The horrible choking noises finally eased as Dean's body slumped against him and he felt the pulse beneath his fingers erratic and racing from the strain. It took another ten minutes before Dean stirred and longer again for Sam to get him on his feet this time.

They finally reached the top of the rise and Sam was relieved to look down on the stand of dead pines. He started down the hill, all but dragging Dean now who had only really stirred to mumble incoherently, still in the throes of his delirium and getting weaker by the minute.

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The coolness of the cave made Sam shiver but he still took his jacket off and placed it underneath Dean's head as he lay his brother down. His brother had closed his eyes but still tossed and struggled with whatever scene was playing in his mind.

Sam took a breath, everything hurt so much he felt numb but he was determined not to let it stop him – his brother needed him. He forced himself to focus his thoughts but couldn't quite manage to do the same with his eyesight and everything remained blurred and distorted.

Before he got to work he had to protect the cave and started with a salt line at the entrance, going over what remained from their last visit. He also added some warding charms that Bobby had given them. It wouldn't stop Bala from coming in but it should keep the demon out of the cave and hopefully out of his head for a while as well.

There wasn't much he could do to fight a witch, save from physically hurting her which he would do if the opportunity presented itself. She shouldn't be at full strength as this was the last day of her seven years and she had used her magic to summon a demon for seven days straight, not to mention the stuff she had used on them. God he hoped he was right.

After retrieving the journal and elf arrow out of his bag he placed them on the smooth rock at the back of the cave and began to read as he worked, cursing his reduced ability to see straight. He saw a stone bowl and pestle on a wooden shelf near the herbs and assorted jars and set them on the rock platform in front of him.

Sam poured the holy water into the stone bowl and found the herb he was looking for, Agrimony. He broke the coarse leaves into small pieces and dropped them into the water adding a handful of salt into the mix and grinding the contents with the pestle. Although he wasn't sure of the exact quantities to use, Agrimony mixed with salt should reverse witchcraft that had already been cast.

Next he broke the flint from the shaft of the elf arrow and placed it into the bowl. The spell he needed was short but potent, and bound the ingredients to work against the magic on the flint. As he finished reciting, a wisp of blue smoke curled up from the bowl and the liquid hissed a little as it was poured into a ceramic cup. "I hope that was a good thing."

"Okay Dean, this is gonna work okay." Sam's voice was quiet, soothing as he placed the cup and open journal next to him and lit two black candles, which he pushed into the sand on the floor of the cave. He maneuvered Dean's jacket off, the t-shirt underneath was a lost cause and Sam used his knife to cut down the middle then across the top of each sleeve so he could peel it away to the sides, grimacing as the dried blood stuck to his brother's skin.

The bandage and adhesive plaster over the arrow wound came next then the layers of gauze as Dean finally began to stir. "Easy Dean, it's okay."

"M'cold Sam. Lock the doors…salt, use salt 'kay. Sammy's scared Dad, don't go…"

"Here I need you to sit up a bit and drink this, c'mon." Sam eased in behind Dean's head and shoulders then rested his brother back against his own chest. "Try and drink it Dean please, just try."

Sam slowly tipped the cup to Dean's mouth and was relieved that sip by sip, his brother was swallowing the mixture. With the cup now only a quarter full, Dean started to fight against drinking any more and Sam steeled himself for the next part. "I'm sorry Dean, I'm sorry but I've got to do this."

He lay Dean back down on the ground and removed the flint from the cup and pressed it into the open wound on his brother's shoulder.

Dean screamed.

Sam's hands shook.

"Abigere omnis magus, liberare venenare

Resistere blasphemare, resistere amentia."

Sam squinted and blinked hard as the words seemed to swim around on the page.

"Purgare corpus, mens, spiritus, animus

Donare vita, donare lumen."

Sam let the flint fall as he poured the remaining liquid over the torn flesh on Dean's shoulder and then held on and prayed. "Please work, please work, it's over now Dean, it's over okay."

Dean hadn't stopped screaming.

Panic gripped him as he saw blood trickling from his brother's mouth and realised this was the vision he had seen. God what had he done?

After what seemed like an eternity, Dean's anguished cries became choked gasps and then finally quieted and subsided. Sam hadn't left his side, holding onto his brother as though he could physically bring him back. As he waited, Sam became more aware of the pickaxe in his head as his sight greyed around the edges. It would have to wait.

Sam's thoughts drifted as he watched his brother and wiped the trickle of blood with his shirt sleeve, made sure his chest rose and fell.

In the last week Sam had begun to think that everything that had happened between them was going to push them apart, with little hope of reclaiming the common ground they had once held. Each had their own agenda, created from personal fears and hopes that seemed to overshadow the strength that had been forged between them. Each acting as though the ends justified the means.

Sam had felt driven to find out what the demon wanted, find out what his father had meant, what his fate held. Dean seemed driven to deny fate, to protect Sam no matter what the cost. Sam had changed direction but Dean hadn't. He probably never would, Sam realised.

He thought about Dean's note and then the memories that had been brought to the surface listening to his brother's delirious recount of past events and conversations, some long forgotten and some Sam had never known.

He remembered the trust he had in Dean as they grew up, and more to the point he remembered his brother had never let him down. Sam knew the same could not be said of him, after everything that had happened.

He had placed the same blind faith in his older brother that Dean had shown their father. That faith came as naturally as breathing.

The note Dean had left him gave rise to both a sense of undeniable fear but also one of strength. Sam knew he had asked his brother for something far beyond any limit. He had asked because he was afraid but he also asked out of trust and hope. There was no one else to ask for this, there never had been.

Making that same promise to Dean, being asked for something that had put a darkness in his heart and tore at his very soul, had shattered him to the core. He knew now that the promise had tested everything his brother held sacred. Everything that held his brother together, and that broke his heart even more. Only in their screwed up lives, would such a promise be needed.

And it was needed. It would no doubt end up breaking one or both of them but it was needed.

What they would do for each other scared him, there were no limits. He knew it scared Dean. What they would do for each other would tear them apart but it also somehow bonded them together in their fucked up world.

Sam realised now that the path they were on was the same, they were just trying to protect each other. Trying to save each other. The path was there, they had just forgotten to walk it together. He had forgotten.

His brother stirred, head moving from side to side and Sam suddenly felt so tired. This fight, this hunt was far from over.

"Sa…Sam?" Eyes slowly blinking.

"I'm right here Dean. It's okay, I've got you." Sam waited for some sign that his brother was back in the present, was back with him.

"Sam?" Dean struggled to move, breathing faster. "Where are we, how…?"

Sam placed his hand on his brother's uninjured shoulder, noticing how cold he felt. "You're alright, we're at the cave. God it's good to have you back."

"I don't remember. Jesus Sam…" Dean grimaced as he tried to sit up and Sam quickly moved to brace some of his brother's weight. Dean's free hand went straight to Sam's face, fingers under his chin then gently under his right eye. "Sammy what the hell happened to you?"

Sam was a little taken aback at the emotion is his brother's voice, after all he wasn't the one who had been roaming the forest poisoned and delirious. "Dean, I'm fine."

"Sam you're bleeding from your nose and ears and it looks like your eye's shot a blood vessel. You're not fine. What happened?" A shudder gripped Dean without warning and his hand slipped down to grip at his brother's shirt for balance.

Dean looked down, noticing his bare torso and touching a hand to the liquid that had semi dried on his skin. "What is this Sam? What did you do?"

"It's okay, I had to use magic against the elf shot Dean. You were poisoned."

"You used black magic? Sam you know the risks and what…"

"There was no other way. It was strong, she must have used your blood in the mix. I had no choice Dean." Sam felt deflated. It was an unspoken rule between them that black magic was a last resort and only then with backup. There was nothing else that could be used to reverse an elf arrow but he was sure Dean already knew that and God his head was pounding.

"Elf shot huh? Freakin witches."

"Can you stand? I think we better be prepared for company."

"Think so…how did I get here? Last thing I remember was, oh God…Harley. I couldn't stop it, happened so fast. "I…I made sure it couldn't take his blood. Couldn't do anything else."

"Dean it's been playing us, we did our best man." Sam frowned as he spoke, questioning himself.

Sam helped Dean to his feet and waited cautiously nearby but his brother waved him off. "C'mon Sam we've got work to do. Where's my shirt dude?"

"Dean just take it slow. You were…you were pretty sick and you've lost blood and…"

"Look Sam, honestly I've felt better but I'm good. I don't know what you did but I feel okay."

They worked steadily side by side, falling easily into each others company. Dean's body felt drained and exhausted, although his shoulder seemed surprisingly good. His brother must have worked some good mojo but he wasn't quite sure how to feel about Sam's talents with the dark arts. After all, he was about to practice them so maybe he shouldn't preach.

He watched as the younger boy finished tracing a symbol in the dirt to complete the summoning circle. He then placed black candles at various points around the perimeter and one inside. Sam's squinting eyes and slow, disjointed movements not lost on him.

Dean worked at the stone table, a look of disgust on his face as he worked the Valerian Root into a thick paste and wrinkled his nose at the offending odor. Sam walked over to inspect the contents and removed the lid off a jar he had previously selected from the wooden shelves.

"Okay you need to mix this in next then, then um, I think we're done."

"What is that stuff? I swear if it smells any worse than this, nobody will be coming in here anytime soon. Demon, witch or otherwise."

"Mullein. It should make the spell stronger and um..." Sam rubbed absently at his temple, losing his train of thought as the headache and fatigue combined to disrupt his thought process.

"Sam you're beat, just sit down a minute while I finish this." Dean took in his brother's appearance, his eyes drawn again to the dried blood on his face and neck. "I need to know what happened to you Sammy."

Sam looked at Dean for a brief moment, held his stare before looking away defeated. Too tired to argue. "It showed me things again." Showed me you hurt, bleeding, dying – Sam couldn't say the words. "I fought it, got it out of my head but I think…I guess it kinda screwed my head up a bit."

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They both felt it at the same time, nothing they could explain, they just knew and stood in unison. As agreed, Sam slid into the shadows at the back of the cave and Dean stood front and centre, gun held loosely, an extension of his arm.

The witch entered first, stopping to scuff the salt line across the mouth of the cave. "I'm impressed, I didn't think you would put up such a fight but it's all too little too late – the spell is cast. You will not stop the ritual and Lamashtu will have her vessel, my life force will be restored."

At first glance, with the light from the entrance behind her, Bala looked no different. However as she stepped closer, Dean saw how her face had begun to change, how her hair looked coarse and matted and the lines in her face now appeared deep and weathered.

"Not looking so good there sweetheart. You give a whole new meaning to the whole mutton dressed as lamb saying. What would you be 100, 200 years old?"

"Now, now, a lady never gives away her age." She calmly closed a little more of the distance between them, her grimoire clutched against her body as though for warmth.

"Well you sure as hell won't be getting any older."

Without warning Dean raised the gun and fired a round of rock salt that Sam had treated with Agrimony and black pepper in the hope of warding off or at least diluting any witchcraft. They knew it was a temporary measure but it was only to buy Sam enough time to begin his own spell.

In the seconds before the round hit its mark however, a spark of blue energy burst from Bala's palm as she spoke one word. "Abigere."

Dean was aware of a bright blue light that seemed to burn everything else from his sight as the air was pushed from his lungs as though he'd been punched in the gut. He hit the ground hard on his back without the time or ability to soften his landing in any way and he lay there stunned, arms outstretched and eyes half open.

"Dean?"

The sound of his brother's voice stirred him into motion like nothing else could. If this plan was going to work they had to stick to the script and Sam couldn't be distracted. Dean managed to speak roughly as he rolled onto his side, noticing with satisfaction that Bala was down for the count. "M'okay Sam."

Sam had watched as best as he could, tense in the shadows not at all liking this part of the plan where Dean played decoy. He knew it was their best shot and it was also probably their only shot so he ignored the voice screaming at him to check on his brother and got to work. Bala lay unmoving on the ground and Sam only hoped he could finish the spell before she recovered enough to interfere.

He sat in the summoning circle and lit the surrounding candles and finally the one in the centre beside him. He took a breath and began reading the incantation from the printed page in his hand.

"I call upon Pazuzu, demon lord of the southwest wind."

Sam glanced up, relieved to see that Dean had gained his feet and was moving to the still prone shape on the ground. He glanced back down at the page in front of him and squeezed his eyes to read the words. As he blinked furiously to clear his vision, the candles flickered and he felt a coldness sweep across his body. Oh God, it was here.

"I invoke Pazuzu against your sworn enemy Lamashtu. Come forth and expel this demon from your presence." Sam struck a match, placing it in the stone bowl that contained the pungent combination of herbs that Dean had prepared. It flared white then nothing.

Sam saw Lamashtu take shape in front of Dean, its feline eyes wholly focused on his brother who wasted no time firing off a round which blasted harmlessly through the now empty space before him. Before the echo of the shot had silenced, Dean swung around looking for the demon to reappear. Sam began to panic as Dean dropped to his knees.

The spell was supposed to work, it had to work. He couldn't let Dean go through this and he'd be damned before he gave up on his brother. They knew Lamashtu would focus on Dean when it arrived. That had been the only reason Dean had won the argument about who would cast the summoning spell – Sam had less chance of being interrupted.

The only condition that Dean had placed had been that no blood would be used, there had been enough spilt already, enough sacrifices made. Sam had looked him in the eye and made that promise. Dean had made him swear on their mother's grave.

"M'sorry mom, I think you'd understand."

Sam drew his knife and without further hesitation held his hand over the smoldering bowl and cut through his palm. The blood dripped freely and he made a fist increasing the flow.

"I call upon Pazuzu, demon lord of the southwest wind. I invoke you against your sworn enemy Lamashtu. My blood is freely given, my blood is sacrifice. I am your vessel."

The fire flared up from the bowl, following the trail of blood to Sam's hand as though it was gasoline. For a moment, his hand glowed white hot but his scream was silent as a force ripped through his body.

_tbc…_

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_Another a/n: In case anyone is interested, (I am really hoping) the Latin spell translates roughly (oh so very roughly!!) as follows:_

_Expel the magic, release the poison_

_Abigere omnis magus, liberare venenare_

_Resist the curse, withstand the madness_

_Resistere blasphemare, resistere amentia_

_Make clean body, mind, spirit, soul_

_Purgare corpus, mens, spiritus, animus_

_Give life, give light_

_Donare vita, donare lumen_

_For those who are well versed in this language – please do not hurt yourself laughing! I'm not really sure why I tried this …I think in my defense I must have been possessed. (Note to self: "Cristo")._

_lb._


	8. Chapter 8

**Divided They Fall**

_Disclaimer: I don't own it or profit from anything Supernatural._

_a/n: I can't look at this chapter any more…so for better or worse here it is (needless to say I'm not pleased but am too tired to argue with myself any more over it)._

_lb_

**Chapter 8 **

Dean was pissed. Really, unbelievably pissed as his gun was ripped from his hand for what seemed like the tenth time in two days. He was also getting a little nervous. Sam was cutting it awful close but then again, that was the whole point he reminded himself.

He steeled his jaw as he realised Sam might just have to keep his promise after all. They had only touched briefly on the subject as they had prepared for the spell and he knew it was hitting his brother hard. God he knew that only too well. He also knew he could trust his brother with his life, his death. As much as he didn't want to lay that burden, he had no choice. Sam would understand that, he had to.

Dean felt himself forced to his knees and groaned without meaning to as he tried to resist against the pressure. Panic welled within him as fully grasped the situation and for a moment, all he wanted was a chance to say goodbye to his brother but that line of thinking wasn't going to help either of them.

"You will see all I do but you will be helpless."

"You should know I don't play well with others." Dean tried and failed to rise, feeling his heart rate increase. "Besides, you should never use a body if you don't know where it's been and I can tell you, it's been in some pretty nasty places."

"Enough! You will be my vessel hunter."

It was like drowning and falling at the same time. Dean felt the coldness claw through his head and body as he fought for control. The pain was like razor blades in his flesh, flaring everywhere until it become too much and overloaded his senses until they were numb.

He heard the familiar sound of his own voice, felt his body working and his heart beating but he was no longer driving. He wasn't even riding shotgun but he could still feel fear. He could still comprehend despair.

"I have freedom until midnight and you will serve me until then." Dean felt himself turn and stand, dismayed to see Bala also rising from the floor. He wanted to turn his head and check on his brother but he had no control. He didn't know how to fight against this and wondered how Sam had managed.

A noise at the back of the cave had his body turning toward the sound faster than he should have been capable of but there was no pain, only a detached kind of vertigo. Sam stood there, swaying slightly but making no attempt at being covert or even defensive. Dean became frantic, there was nothing he could do and Sam was…Sam's eyes were glowing. Crap.

Dean assumed it must have been a distortion of his perception because Sam was at the back of the cave one minute and in his face the next. His brother's eyes glowing almost red and his voice unrecognisable. "You will no longer walk this earth Lamashtu, you will be ended."

Sam's hands were around his neck and squeezing. It was strange really, he could feel the pressure and hear his own choking noises but again there was no pain. His fisted hand swung and collided forcefully with his brother's jaw. Sam's neck snapped back and he released his chokehold but landed a solid punch to the side of Dean's face. They traded vicious blows for several minutes as the ancient enemies within sought dominance.

Dean's level of consciousness never wavered throughout the struggle and he took in every detail as a spectator with a front row seat. He found himself wanting Sam to just knock him senseless so he wouldn't have to see the pure hatred reflected on his brother's face. Just like before…

A mind numbing roar suddenly echoed inside his skull as he struck Sam with a body blow. Out of the corner of his vision he saw the witch raise a palm, her words sounding like gibberish. As blue sparks began forming around her hand, a flick of Sam's wrist sent her crashing into the wall of the cave where she fell in a heap. Sam recovered quickly and once again regained his hold on Dean's neck and smiled.

He saw Sam's eyes suddenly close tight as a pain filled cry escaped his lips and he doubled over, hands releasing Dean and pressing to his own forehead. A shadow moved out of and away from his brother, taking shape in the air above them. Blood flowed down Sam's face and neck from nose, eyes and ears.

A tearing, ripping pain enveloped Dean as he gained control over his body and he felt the demon pull away. Lamashtu appeared next to him and lurched in the air towards the other demon God as Dean fell on his back in a boneless heap on the ground, gasping in mouthfuls of air as his pain awareness kicked back into gear.

The roars and terrifying shrieks above cleared his head enough to know they weren't out of danger yet and he forced himself to sit up.

"Sam." It came out as a rasp, the word not even intelligible to his own ears and certainly having no impact on his brother who lay face down on the ground whilst the aerial battle continued on overhead. Pieces of rock showered down as the demons clipped the ceiling in their semi-corporeal forms and Dean knew he had to make a move. His head was ringing and he rubbed a hand over his jaw where it had collided with his brothers fists.

He rolled his younger brother over, trying somehow to ignore the blood covering his face. Dean gained his feet, placing his hands underneath Sam's arms and dragging him across the cave floor to the side wall. He didn't think they would make it out of the cave unnoticed and anyway he wasn't in the habit of leaving before the job was finished. As he quickly checked his brother's breathing, Sam groaned and opened his eyes.

"Sam? You hear me Sam?" His voice sounded stronger but felt like broken glass in his throat.

"Yeah." Sam groaned as he sat up. "God."

"Actually there's two Gods Sammy. You good?"

"Yeah." Sam squinted through the haze towards the sound of his brother's cracked voice and saw a blur. "You?"

"Sam, I need to know. This isn't finished." Dean chose to ignore the question as he noticed his brother's inability to focus. "You pushed it out of your head didn't you?"

Sam gave an almost imperceptible nod and winced as his head pulsed with pain. "Can't see properly. We need to finish this – are you…did I hurt you?"

"You hit like a girl Sam. Listen, you sit tight and here," Dean pushed a gun into Sam's hand. "Shoot at anything that isn't me." Dean didn't like the thought of leaving his brother vulnerable but he liked less the idea of anything else getting in Sam's head. God knows what damage had already been done as Sam had struggled to expel the demon. He himself felt like the mother of all headaches was about to pay him a visit and all he'd done was go along for the ride.

"What are you…?" Sam question was cut short as the demons crashed to the ground near the cave mouth, snarling and grappling.

"I'm gonna get the grimoire. She brought it with her and I think if I destroy it in the summoning circle it will weaken the ritual and maybe give our demon God the upper hand."

"Might just work Dean. Ritual's linked to Bala's life force which is…connected to the grimoire. Try shooting it before you burn it."

"What?"

The Agrimony in the…in the bullets should weaken the spell craft of the book, otherwise she can probably protect it from destruction." Sam squeezed his eyes shut.

"Okay good. Sam, you with me?" Dean felt more than a little relieved that Sam's brain was still obviously in good working order even if his eyesight was cause for major worry. However his brother was obviously in pain and struggling to stay focused.

"Still here." Sam eyes opened a fraction.

"I'll be right back. Remember, sit tight, shoot anything not your awesome big brother and…and thanks for having my back today Sam." Dean quickly scoped out his path and turned to face his brother before he moved off. "Y'know we're gonna have to talk about the whole no blood sacrifice thing as well Francis – don't think I'm gonna forget about that."

"Be careful Dean."

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Sam concentrated on the indistinct shapes around him and hoped he wouldn't have cause to fire anywhere near his brother. Having no intention of sitting tight in case Dean needed him, he placed a hand on the wall behind him and stood slowly, trying to focus on the direction Dean had disappeared. As the pain level increased, he didn't notice the blood begin to run from his nose again as he inched forward, one hand guided by the wall the other gripping the gun tightly.

Dean saw Bala at about the same time she saw him which was not a good thing he figured, when rock chips flew in the air above his head as he hit the floor rolling. His momentum hadn't stopped as he fired off two shots, both hitting an invisible barrier and falling harmlessly to the ground, much to his disgust. Dean didn't much care for what looked like the beginning of another incantation, so without further pause he ran at her head on and tackled her to the ground before she had the time to react.

He knew he had to stop her speaking, the better to stop any spells so he could use the bullets. As Bala tried to push him off, her hand snaked under the open jacket he wore and sought the still torn flesh from the arrow wound and her nails and fingers found their mark. Dean yelled as the tender flesh was ripped open but his commitment didn't waiver as he landed a knockout punch.

Only it didn't knock her out. "No freakin' way." He muttered as he felt a force push him off and to the side.

His attention was drawn to the fight overhead just in time as both demon Gods crashed to the ground adjacent to him, the battle between them seeming to grow in savagery and intensity. He stumbled towards the cave wall, left arm and shoulder throbbing as he leaned against it, turning his head as debris rained down when Lamashtu soared skyward and drove Pazuzu into the ceiling.

As rock debris and dirt clouded the air, Dean spied the witch and once again fired a shot into the haze which was blocked from reaching her body as her hand was raised. As he saw the witch momentarily stagger from the effort, he tucked the gun in his waistband and ran at her again knowing this would probably be his last chance to take her out as he felt his energy draining. He hit her body hard and rolled with it, grunting as his body hit the ground with considerable force. He couldn't believe she was this resilient, her physical looks obviously masking a greater power that offered her protection.

Dean got in two good strikes and poised for the third, felt his hand being stopped and crushed, sinking to his knees as he heard the sickening crack of one, then two fingers. The pain spiking up his wrist as he inhaled sharply.

"Too little too late." Bala's hand fisted tighter as she looked upwards. "I will be restored and Lamashtu will have you as her prize."

Dean gritted his teeth and followed her gaze to where the lion woman had the demon Pazuzu firmly in her steel jaws by the neck. He moved his left hand awkwardly to his back for the gun, feeling the damaged skin burn as his shoulder moved. He had to stop this and get Sam out of here but was dismayed when his fingers refused to close around the grip of the gun. Dean's focus was lost again as his right hand seemed to crunch and tear in the witch's cruel grip.

This truly sucked out loud.

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Sam stumbled along towards the sound of Dean firing off two rounds and waited for his brother to return with the book. He was surprised to hear the sounds of a scuffle and he saw the movement of the figures on the ground but was unable to discern the details. He did know the sound of Dean throwing a punch however he was distracted as his path was suddenly blocked by snapping and snarling demons as they landed between him and his goal.

As the demons lifted off the ground, he crouched and made his way across the cave, hoping to come up behind Dean's last position. Sam fell twice as he moved across the space, unable to make out anything but dim shapes but relieved he couldn't see the abused skin of his knee as the last of the stitches pulled and tore open.

Another gun shot, this time across the cave and he continued back further not wanting to call out and give away his position too soon. Sam heard Dean hit the ground and the unmistakable sounds of another tussle and wondered why the bullets weren't working on the witch. He quickened his pace and fell face first as his foot hit something and he lost what balance he had.

Dazed by yet another blow to his head, Sam sat up with uncoordinated movements and panting gasps as his hands patted the surrounding dirt for his gun. One outstretched hand found exactly what he was looking for - the other found the calloused texture of the grimoire.

As he heard Dean cry out in pain, Sam wasted no more time and fired one round into the middle of the cover and two more into the opened pages. A piercing scream gouged its way through his skull momentarily taking away what little vision he had but he picked the book up and stumbled his way towards the back of the cave where he had drawn the summoning circle.

The candles had gone out but Sam hoped the power of the circle that had drawn Pazuzu would work against the black magic that called Lamashtu. He found matches in his pocket and hesitated to search for the small bowl he had used in the circle earlier. Thankful there were still some contents remaining, he smeared them over the book and then struck the match and lit the whole pack before he dropped it on the grimoire.

The grimoire flared brightly with an unnerving sound that reached an almost wail and then died in a whisper as the book ignited. Sam pushed himself up from the ground and noticed firstly that the roar of the lion woman that had dominated the airwaves was now replaced by a deep war cry that vibrated off the cave walls. The sounds of battle reached a crescendo and he flinched as pieces of rock pelted his back.

After a blinding flash that seared even Sam's damaged vision, a silence ensued which seemed almost obscene. Sam was so startled when the blurred yet still ugly face of the demon God Pazuzu appeared before him, he flung himself backwards in the dirt and grabbed for his gun. It vanished with a last yell before he could even pull the trigger and he lay panting on the ground.

"Sammy?"

The second sound was like music to his ears but he also knew Dean's voice and he knew his brother was hurting.

Sam wearily stood, swaying for a minute as he tried to get his bearings in the gloom. Tried to ignore the white hot pain bouncing around inside his skull and flaring in his knee.

"Dean."

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Dean finally got the fingers of his left hand to grip the gun through sheer willpower and brought it free just as he heard the gunshots. Thinking Sam was in trouble he drew the gun but Bala had dropped to the ground before he had even fired. Dean stood and leaned back against the rock wall cradling his broken hand to his body, watching for the slightest movement from the witch. He winced as he heard a shriek and then watched the tide turn in the epic battle above.

Sam must have found the book.

As he heard the triumphant cry then the overbearing silence, Dean looked down to see the body of Bala writhe and shrivel until it was a dried husk. "Gross," he commented just as a flash of light seemed to fry his eyes before he squeezed them shut.

Opening his eyes, Dean took stock for a moment and figured it could have been a hell of a lot worse. Rookie mistake really, jinxing things like that but he was tired and he was hurting.

Hearing the demon yell brought his focus back. "Sammy?'

A minute of tense silence, followed by the sound of his brother's voice allowed him to exhale in relief. It was over.

A thunderous crack pierced the air as pieces of rock began to fall from the cave and Dean felt the vibrations through the dirt floor. He hadn't thought about it before but the black magic must have been woven into the cave as well from the way it seemed to be crumbling now the witch and, he was guessing the grimoire, no longer existed.

"Sam I'll come and get you, try and get close to the wall." He wasn't sure how his brother had even managed to find the book and destroy it but he wasn't taking any chances if Sam still couldn't see properly.

"No Dean stay there - I'll start coming towards you. I'm okay." Sam shouted back.

Dean had no way of telling if Sam was really okay but there was no way he was just going to stand there. As the dust started getting in his mouth and the dimness of the cave increased it became increasingly difficult to judge how far into the cave he had traveled.

Most of the rock fall was still concentrated towards the centre of the cave from what he could see, so he stayed by the wall and started making his way back towards where his brother should be. Passing close to Sam's pack, he stopped quickly to drag it over to the wall then fumbled with the zip and found a couple of flashlights, placing one in his jacket and one in his left hand.

"Hey, you still alright?" Dean was getting a little edgy that the rock falls hadn't stopped yet. He looked back to the dim glow that was the cave entrance and was relieved it was still clear, most of the damage was further back.

Yeah, I'm getting…"

Dean froze then fell against the wall as rocks shattered all around him and throughout the cave. It lasted about twenty seconds but seemed to go on forever. He couldn't stop the dust that was sucked into his mouth and lungs and coughed uncontrollably clearing his airways. As he gained control of his breathing again, his eyes watering and body thrumming with pain from the movement, he noticed the absence of noise. Hopefully that was the last of it.

"Sam, you good?"

"Sammy?" Shit.

Dean was on the move, tapping his flashlight back to life and going recklessly through the unstable rocks now strewn across the cave floor. He placed his left hand protectively over his right to try and minimise the jarring pain from his movement.

It only took him a few minutes to find his younger brother, thankfully only underneath some light rubble and beginning to stir and cough.

Dean knelt down and placed his left hand on his brother's arm which had started to flounder in the air. "Hey it's okay Sam, calm down. Just breathe." Dean started pushing the dirt and small rocks from Sam's body and legs with his left hand, then helped him sit up, hunched over his knees.

"You…?" He managed to rasp out before another set of hoarse coughs took his breath away. Blood from a fresh cut trickling down and across one eye.

"Sam just shut up and breathe for a second, I'm fine."

Dean slid from his knees to sit next to his brother with a sigh, gingerly resting his right hand in his lap. Sam looked around slowly with eyes half closed as he listed unknowingly to the side, coming to a rest against Dean's shoulder.

"You're not gonna hug are you?" Dean was thinking concussion and hoping nothing more.

"Um…huh?"

Yup definite concussion. Dean tried to tuck the flashlight awkwardly under his arm but realised he couldn't hold it there and help Sam as well with only one working hand. He placed it instead in his brother's hand winding the strap around his wrist and over his thumb to secure it before he stood**. **

"Never mind Sammy. C'mon can you stand up?" Not waiting for an answer and not getting one anyway, he grabbed Sam's right arm and pulled up. Thankfully Sam assisted by getting his legs under him and Dean steered him by the arm back towards their gear. Sam seemed to have enough presence of mind to try and hold the flashlight as steady as he could, which Dean realised was not that steady at all.

Dean figured it was probably best just to get Sam out first then come back for the bag cause there was no way he could do both at the same time. He continued on towards the cave mouth and although he could see the waning light from outside, he realised it was a considerably smaller piece of daylight than was there previously.

As he drew near the mound of rubble he realised he would have to dig some of it away before they would be able to pass through. "Aw man, freakin' witches," he muttered, knowing this was gonna hurt.

Nearly an hour later by the light of his flashlight, his good hand now bloodied and sore, Dean finished clearing enough of the debris to allow their escape. He took weary steps over to where Sam sat propped up against the wall with his eyes closed. Dean had allowed him to sleep, or crash in this case from sheer fatigue and pain.

"Sam? Time to leave the bat cave dude." Dean gently patted his brother's face and was rewarded with a groan as he opened his eyes. "How ya doing bro?"

"'Kay. How long did we…where are we Dean?"

"Don't worry about it Sam, we're just gonna move one last time then you can sleep for the night." Dean was becoming increasingly more worried at his brother's disorientation having had this conversation twice before when he had woken Sam.

He gently got his brother moving until they reached the exit where Dean had propped the flashlights in the dirt. "Okay Sammy, you're still gonna have to crawl through a bit but I'm gonna go first and help you."

Dean moved through the opening on his knees and one hand with the cord of a flashlight dangling from his mouth, thankful they only had to travel a few feet. He heard Sam moving behind him and in obvious pain.

"Nearly there man, just a bit further." Dean felt the cold sharp air hit him as he escaped the confines of the cave and found himself outside. He turned and reached back inside to guide his brother who had almost slumped to the side moving sluggishly.

Sam groaned as Dean grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward. "Hurts."

"I know Sam, I'm sorry. I'll give you something for your head when I get our stuff." Dean moved his stumbling brother along the outside rock wall where a small overhang would give them a bit of shelter for the night. Traveling at night with their injuries was not an option – it was going to be hard enough in the daylight.

"Knee." Sam groaned as Dean lowered him to the ground, his back supported by rock. Dean held the flashlight in his left hand and gasped when he saw the mess that was his brother's knee. Looking closer he saw the torn denim around the injury blood soaked almost down to the hem. The dirt and dust from the rock fall had previously hidden this detail.

Dean used his knife and carefully cut the denim from the tear down to the hem, willing his left hand to remain steady. He moved the material aside to get a better look. Stitches long gone, it appeared the gash had been split worse than before and had begun to swell.

"Damn." Dean spoke softly to himself, hating that he had forgotten Sam was already hurt and then forcing him to crawl, making it worse.

"Hey, I'll be back soon okay. I'm just gonna grab our bag then I'll fix you up. Sam?"

"Yeah. Don't go, m'alright." Sam slurred and struggled to sit up straighter, obviously understanding vaguely what was happening. "Dean please…not back in."

Dean looked at his younger sibling, covered in dirt and blood, goddamn hair in his eyes and barely coherent. Yet still worried about his dumbass older brother. "Sam, you trust me right?"

A deliberate nod of Sam's head and he continued. "I need to get our stuff out of the cave so we can get out of here tomorrow. I'll be careful and I'll be right back. I promise."

"Promise."

Dean stood and patted his brother on the shoulder. "Yeah, promise."

Sam was conscious enough of the fact that Dean had gone and was definitely coming back. He knew he had to stay awake to make sure his brother kept his word even though he always did. When it counted anyway.

Sam couldn't really think past the mantra of stay awake and hurts with the occasional panic that they were still in the cave. "We killed it." He mumbled out loud so he would remember. He arched his neck and tilted his head back, uncaring that the uneven rock surface pressed into his head. All the better to stay awake. He realised his teeth were chattering and the temperature had begun to drop as the last trace of light disappeared and left him in the dark.

Dean should be back by now.

A noise to his left startled him and he turned his head sharply towards the sound, wincing as his brain relayed its annoyance. Sam realised he was an easy target and couldn't even see what he was up against. He felt around his waist for the gun.

A dim light came out of the darkness followed by a disembodied voice, "Hi honey I'm home."

Sam slumped in exhausted relief, the concentration to stay focused having now drained his energy. He laughed a little even as his eyes closed, "Y'made it."

"Stay with me Sam, just a bit longer okay. I'm gonna give you something for the pain then wrap your knee up." Dean planted two flashlights beside him then sank down to the ground and pulled the first aid kit out of the bag, finding some extra strong pain meds and then a bottle of water.

Dean sat for almost half a minute staring dumbly at the bottle of pills and the bottle of water both gripped in his left hand, his one good hand which really wasn't looking so good at the moment. His powers of deduction, normally razor sharp, were now dulled so much it almost hurt.

"Sam, here open this up and take a couple." Dean pressed the plastic pill bottle into his brother's hand and sighed as he watched Sam trying to turn the cap.

"It's child proof man you gotta push and turn at the same time."

"Yeah, forgot." Sam shook his head grinning, then frowned as he removed the lid and shook the pills into his palm. "Here", he held the small container out to his brother and concentrated carefully as Dean took the offering in the same hand as the water bottle and waited for Sam to take the water.

"Let me see." Sam spoke quietly as he took the drink and swallowed the pills.

"See what, you okay?"

"Your hand or your arm, how bad?" Sam breathed hard in an effort to stay alert, he knew something was wrong.

After a pause and a defeated sigh, "Hand's broken."

"You don't have to...wish you wouldn't..." Sam tried to get the words out of his partially scrambled brain. "Y'need to tell me when you're hurt."

"Sam…"

"Y'need to tell me Dean."

"Why? You've got enough to deal with at the moment and I'll be fine."

"Why? Cause I'm your brother." The way Sam spoke it was like that one fact was all the argument he had to provide and Dean shook his head gently.

Sam continued, "I need to just be your brother sometimes 'kay. Not…not the enemy."

"You're not the enemy Sam, never have been." Dean spoke gently.

"Feels like it. I know I...m'sorry Dean." Sam felt his eyes closing against his will.

"Hey, c'mon stay awake man. I need your help."

"Yeah, I'm good."

"This is gonna hurt Sammy but I've gotta clean your knee first. Pour some water on this for me."

Dean waited for his brother to nod before he started wiping the dirt and blood from the wound with the damp gauze. He knew Sam's half closed eyes were watching him from under unruly brown hair. Dean maintained appearances, he knew Sam's vulnerable state was influencing what he was saying but he was absolutely thrown by what his younger sibling had thought out loud. Had he really shut his brother out that much? Made him feel like the enemy when all he was trying to do was protect him?

Cleaning the cut as best he could with limited water and one hand, Dean used another piece of gauze to pat it dry and then applied antiseptic cream and wound dressing. Using his teeth he then ripped a piece of medical tape off and used it to secure the end of the bandage underneath Sam's leg.

"Okay Sam I need you to start wrapping the bandage from above your knee." Dean guided his brother's hand, tightening any slack until the injury was wrapped firmly.

Once the bandage was secured, they both sat back exhausted. Dean realised he could see their breath in the torchlight and knew he couldn't rest just yet. The temperature would drop even further during the night and he could already see his brother shivering. With a groan, he leaned forward to get up but was stopped by a hand on his elbow.

"Your hand, need to wrap it." Sam almost slurred the words but still managed to sound insistent.

"Aw Sam, when I'm finished. We need to dig in for the night before we freeze our asses off." Dean felt his body beginning to shut down alarmingly fast as the adrenaline left his system.

Sam didn't say anything. In his dazed state he thought his brother was still pushing him away. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to get through the barriers. If he lost his brother he lost everything.

"Sam? Sammy, hey open your eyes."

Sam's head snapped up as he felt a hand on his face. "Can I fix y'hand now?"

"Dude I haven't moved yet, you kinda nodded off on me." Dean saw the raw look that had crossed his brother's face and knew what had caused it. Sam was hurt, not just the physical although there was plenty of that but his kid brother was tough. This was different.

"Sam if I stop now I…I don't think I'll be able to get back up. I need to get a fire going first okay."

For the next half an hour the brothers worked together to set up a crude shelter and start a fire. Dean carried out most of the grunt work but he didn't stop Sam from helping even though he was obviously struggling. Enough was enough though, and with a firm hand he made Sam sit while he unpacked the foil like thermal blankets in the medical kit.

His overworked left hand was shaking badly and his shoulder and broken hand throbbed unmercifully by the time Dean dropped to the ground. He watched as Sam struggled again with the child proof lid and held out three pills in an unsteady hand.

"Take them before I start."

"Can you see any better?" Dean let Sam pick up his right arm without protest, he had nothing left.

"Yeah, m'fine. God Dean, swelling's bad and…and there's bone. I can't…all I can do is wrap it."

"I know Sam, just do it." The pain was electric every time his hand was moved and he was drained and sweat soaked by the time it was bandaged.

Dean sat panting, trying to reclaim some resolve but it didn't come. He leaned back against the rock, and closed his eyes. They didn't reopen.

Sam could feel his own hands shaking by the time he finished bandaging his brother's hand and knew it wasn't just from the cold chill that was settling on them despite the fire. He knew Dean was right, they just had to get through the night and trek out in the morning. He was having moments of clarity where the pain moved to the background and allowed a little focus but then without warning it would return.

He knew Dean was hurting, was pushing his limits both physically and otherwise as he normally did. Sam understood this was how Dean dealt with stuff, with everything really cause that was how he survived. He hated that Dean tried to stifle the groans of pain as his hand was wrapped, knowing his brother was trying not to worry him but he could read the pain anyway. Even with his blurred vision he could see the damage.

Sam desperately wondered and worried what Dean really thought of him, if he hated him for everything that had happened. He had not only taken a life but had probably destroyed beyond repair, the connection they had reformed since their lives had been thrown together again.

Turning his head he saw Dean's eyes still closed, his bandaged hand resting against his body. "Y'okay? Dean?" He frantically felt for his brother's pulse and finding it strong beneath his fingers, he gently moved Dean so he was lying on the ground, his head on their partially unpacked bag. He wasn't sure if his sibling had passed out from pain or exhaustion but either way, the end result was the same.

Sam wearily moved so he was lying between Dean and the open forest, covering them each with a foil blanket before shuffling his body to lie shoulder to shoulder beside the prone form of his brother. As he lay his head on the ground, the pain behind his eyes overtook him again and there were no last thoughts before he slept.

tbc…


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 (3,312)

**Chapter 9**

Darkness and cold. Pain and panic.

Dean sat up, giving a groan as he used muscles and injured body parts before he remembered where he was and what he had hurt. He steadied his breathing and looked around, noticing the glowing embers of the fire and realising he didn't recall going to sleep. God he must have crashed and Sam had covered him up.

Sam.

Dean noticed his brother was moving restlessly, his arms and torso uncovered and his head turned sideways on the ground. He figured Sam must have woken him which was fine 'cause the sooner they got started the sooner they would get out of here. With the rising body count it wouldn't be long before the Sheriff got reinforcements and they really needed to be long gone before then.

They had stopped the killing cycle but the only life that had been spared this time around was his, six out of seven victims not so lucky. Even the numbers screamed failure by any standards but worse than that was the cosmic irony of it all. He felt like a cockroach, able to survive where others couldn't but also the least deserving to live. Yeah perfect, a dirty filthy cockroach. Meg wasn't so far off the mark after all.

Slowly getting to his feet as the sun began to lighten the sky, he stretched a little and tested his hand, discovering that he couldn't move it at all without setting his whole right arm on fire. Again perfect.

As he began to kick dirt over the glowing embers that remained of the fire, he heard Sam's voice. He looked over to where his brother still lay sleeping, although sleeping didn't seem to be quite the right description. Sam's hands were pressed tightly to his eyes, his fingers pressed harshly into the top of his head almost clawing as he rocked as though in pain.

"Sam, wake up." Dean crouched down and shook his brother's shoulder.

"No, get out, get out, get out." Sam's voice was breathless and panicked. "I killed him. No. Won't hurt you, won't hurt you Dean."

"God Sam it's okay, it's finished. C'mon Sam, wake up."

"SAM." Dean was beginning to panic himself as blood started trickling from his brother's nose. The demon was gone but his brother's confused mind didn't realise that and was trying to fight it.

Sam reacted to his brother's yell by opening his eyes, wild and searching for danger he found his older sibling. Breathing harshly through his nose while his hands grabbed Dean's forearm, for a second he seemed to be gaining control, finding purchase in the present but then his body shook with sobs.

"M'sorry, m'sorry Dean. God I…in my head, it was in my head, I hurt you. Can't do that again…won't…won't hurt you anymore. M'sorry, don't hate me."

Dean couldn't find words in that second, he was barely able to breathe as he saw the pain his kid brother was in because of what had happened. He was in no confusion that Sam was talking about Minnesota, this hunt had just made him relive the scenario. It was just like being hit with a blunt instrument when he realised how Sam felt.

This was Sam laid bare, raw emotion without the sugar coating. He had thought his brother was better at the chic flick thing, the whole say what you feel deal but this, this showed how wrong he was. The intensity of how much Sam was afraid of hurting him again was almost too bright to look at, it was the undiluted version of what he had been shown before, what Sam had allowed him to see.

"Don't hate me Dean. Know you don't, can't trust me but please…please don't hate me."

Sam's words flowed through Dean like an electric current. It was like a switch had been thrown and as the shadows dispersed he saw what he meant to his brother. He saw his worth reflected back at him and it floored him. This was his brother and he suddenly knew with certainty this was everything. Sam was his strength, his weakness, his hope. His brother.

Dean's eyes refocused on the anguished face in front of him that suddenly looked so young, tear streaked and bloodied and he realised that he hadn't spoken.

Dean smiled and for once, it reached his eyes.

"Sammy I don't hate you man, never have, never will okay. It wasn't you in Minnesota. I know YOU wouldn't hurt me, I know you would die for me just like I would for you. I trust you with my life Sam. I know we've both gotta deal with this but we can't let it beat us or, or Meg wins…they win. I know this is hard, God I know, but…but we do this for Mom, for Dad for Jess…and for us okay?"

Sam nodded trying to speak but squeezed his eyes shut instead, just as Dean noticed blood running from his eyes. Dean knew Sam had burst more blood vessels before he even saw the damage.

"Hey, hey just relax. Let me see, can you open your eyes?"

"Hurts." Barely above a whisper but he still opened his eyes a sliver, revealing bloodshot and blown pupils.

"I'm gonna get you something for the pain." Dean went to move but Sam held tight with both hands still in place as though still too afraid to let go.

"You…you can't believe the words Dean."

'Sshh Sam. We'll talk later, you need to…"

"No, no…now. Dad, Dad loved you, was proud of you and…and I, I need you 'cause I don't know what to do and I'm scared and I love you man. You're everything I've got Dean. What we do it's…it's too hard to do alone."

"I know Sammy, I know."

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It took them just under an hour to get ready for the trek back out through the forest. Dean was double checking the remains of the fire and folding the foil blankets as best he could while Sam sat and struggled to pack their few supplies back into the pack, his hand eye coordination seemingly misplaced.

"Here Sam you missed the bandages." Dean bent to retrieve his handgun and checked the safety before placing it in his waistband then picked up the plastic covered roll and held it out to his brother. Sam seemed to concentrate then merely held out his hand waiting for the item to be placed in his grasp.

"You okay to go? We should get moving." Dean sounded almost apologetic.

Sam nodded wearily and used the rock face to gain his feet.

Dean gripped the strap and hauled the backpack over his damaged hand then shrugged it onto his back, wincing as it sat over his injured shoulder. He had already taken painkillers after he had made sure his brother's knee was strapped tight for the walk. He hoped to God they would kick in soon, it was hard to concentrate on anything when his hand was screaming with every movement.

Sam felt confused. His thought processes seemed to be randomly misfiring, he couldn't focus and if his knee couldn't handle the walk out of here…well there was no other option. He had to do this. Dean needed a hospital, he vaguely thought maybe he did too. As he took the first few steps, he felt his arm grasped and placed across his brother's shoulders. He wanted to thank his brother, he really did but it was lost in the haze.

"Can't have you falling on your ass Sammy, I think you've got enough to worry about."

Truth was, Dean was worried about what damage Sam had done pushing the demon out of his head. His brother's eyes seemed no better and he was becoming more withdrawn. The lack of protest or any reaction to his assistance only adding to his concern. He shifted his bandaged hand against his chest as they began walking.

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Dean somehow kept them moving forward for nearly two hours. It was the involuntary gasps and harsh breathing that initially got his attention but then Sam began to clutch at his head with his free arm. Dean lowered his brother to the ground and almost fell down beside him.

"Sam what is it? Your head worse?"

Sam took a couple of shuddering breaths and nodded slowly.

"Sammy talk to me, please." Dean watched as his brother looked at him helplessly, his face anguished.

"Moving…h…hurts. Eyes hurt. M'sorry, can't…can't…"

'Hey, it's gonna be okay Sam. Y'gonna be fine. We'll rest up for a bit then I'm getting you outta here."

Dean struggled out of the pack and found water and pills. There were only four tablets left but his brother wasn't going to get far without them. He had purposefully left the lid off the small bottle from their previous dose and he shook all four pills into his brother's hand.

"Okay Sam take these, it'll help a bit."

Sam shook his head slowly once. "Half…each."

"No Sam, take them. My hand hurts okay but if you go down, if you can't walk at all – well I'm not gonna be able to carry you out man. And I'm not leaving your sorry ass behind either."

Sam took the pills. "Not, not carrying me. I'll walk."

"That's the spirit Sammy."

Dean sounded far more confident than he felt. They were stranded out here and the only way out was on foot. There was no one to call even if they could, Bobby was half way across the country and for Bobby's sake they needed to keep their distance. It was a moot point anyway, neither phone was getting a signal, he'd already checked.

It was on him to get them out.

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Dean figured they had to reach the car soon. It had taken them over five hours to reach this point in a trip that had previously taken them just under three hours. Sam had hardly spoken during the entire journey but had gone on without complaint each time Dean had pushed him to continue. At least the pills seemed to have helped him manage the pain.

Both boys were dirty, bruised and each in their own private world of agony. They had finished off the remaining few precious mouthfuls of their water when they last stopped which must have been an hour ago Dean reckoned, but time was becoming a distorted concept.

As they rounded a bend in the trail, Dean stared in almost disbelief as he saw the glint of black metal through the trees. He let out a shuddering breath as he allowed himself a brief moment to acknowledge the small victory.

"Sammy, hey we made it man."

"You...you got us out."

After getting his brother folded into the passenger seat, mindful of his knee, Dean stopped to clumsily open the trunk and retrieve some items. He noticed the battered old sedan parked nearby and assumed it had been Sam's mode of transport. As he finally dropped into the driver's seat, he couldn't help the groan of exhaustion as his body was finally able to stop its momentum. He placed water and pill bottle on the seat beside him as he let his head tilt back against the warm leather.

Sam turned his head slowly, squinting over at the red tinged image of his brother. Through the blur he realised what Dean had placed on the seat and after several attempts managed to snag both bottles in his hand, opening the water and holding it out to his older sibling.

"Drink some first Sam."

"No. You need painkillers. Your hand."

"Sam."

"You first." Sam waited until his brother had taken the water then opened the new pill bottle and held it out as well, leaning is head back and letting his eyes close as Dean took the offering. He thought he had just rested for second, letting the familiar feel of the car lull him away from the pain in his head that he could barely remember being without but suddenly his brother's voice was loud and close.

"Sam. Sam, wake up. C'mon Sammy please."

Dean's rising panic at his brother's sudden lapse into unconsciousness steadied a little when he got a response. He cupped his brother's chin with his good hand as he sought to get some eye contact but Sam's blown pupils and bloodied eyes were not comforting at all.

"Dean? Y'okay?

"God Sam, you just passed out. I've been trying to wake you for ten minutes…you scared me man."

"I don't…m'sorry."

"I'm gonna get you to a hospital okay. Just stay awake for me." Dean started the car, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him again. Before he drove off he managed to pop a handful of caffeine tabs out of the blister pack he had stuffed in his pocket from the trunk. He knew he was gonna fall hard when he finally did stop but he would worry about that later.

"How far we gotta go? You shouldn't be driving Dean, call…" Sam's voice drifted off into nothing.

"Sam?"

"Yeah. Ya shouldn't be driving."

"Probably not but hey, I'm living dangerously." Dean winced as the car vibrated from the corrugations in the dirt road and send electric bolts of pain out from his hand. He felt beads of sweat break out on his face as he bit back on the pain.

"Ya hurt, lemme drive." Sam's voice was little more than a slur.

"I'm not living that dangerously Sam." Dean smiled in spite of his agony, in spite of his utter exhaustion. He forgot sometimes what it felt like to be looked after, well maybe not forgot so much as refused to consider the option. He knew Sam tried at every available opportunity, even when he was shot down in flames more times than not but he had to hand it to the kid, he was nothing if not persistent.

It was absolutely insane but here and now he almost felt something close to peace, some kind of closure after everything. It might be the pain meds or it might be the caffeine pills kicking in but maybe it had something more to do with Sam.

He had always known Sam was the one thing that grounded him, gave him purpose and a sense that he belonged. More so than even his Dad, who he loved unconditionally. The one thing however that was the real kicker, was that he had seen what he meant to Sam. He couldn't ignore that and he couldn't push it away – it was real. All he had to be for Sam was a brother.

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Dean had been driving for fifteen long minutes, his brother barely conscious and coherent in the passenger seat beside him. His efforts to keep talking had been thwarted by the necessity to breathe through the sudden bone jarring stabs of pain in his right hand and arm which reduced the ache in his left shoulder to mere background noise.

He listened to the familiar noise for several seconds before it dawned on him that his phone was ringing and he stopped the car, unable to reach in his pocket and drive with one hand. He answered without checking the display - that would involve far too much effort.

"Yeah."

"Dean?"

"Bobby? Yeah."

"Are you boys alright? I've been trying to getta hold of you for hours."

"Yeah we're fine, just finished a job. No signal." Bobby didn't need all the gory details, what he didn't know…

"Look son, if ya gonna spin me a yarn y'could at least try and sound convincing. How bad?"

"Dean?"

"M'taking Sam to a hospital, concussion."

"Fine then don't tell me. Listen Dean, your job in Unity made the news and there's a coupla not so savory characters heading your way if ya know what I mean. I don't know if it's just plain old dumb bad luck but you need to get Sam outta there just to be safe. These guys are hunters and they're bad news so don't hang around y'hear?"

"Thanks Bobby. I'll…I'll keep going a bit before we stop." Dean closed his eyes briefly in resignation. He was going to have to keep going.

"I'll let you know if anything changes but you take care. Listen, if you can't get far just lay low and stay alert and Dean?"

"Yeah Bobby."

"Call me when you get there so I know you haven't driven off the Godforsaken road son."

"Kay."

Dean ended the call and took a few deep breaths, looking over at his brother who had closed his eyes once more.

"Sam? Sam you with me?"

"Mmm…we there?"

"No Sammy, can you hang on bit? We've gotta keep moving." Dean started the car back up and settled back into the seat.

Sam struggled to rise up from the murky depths of pain and confusion. There was something wrong with him but there was something wrong with Dean too. They should be stopping. It was over, wasn't it?

"Dean? Why…you've gotta stop, rest. We killed it…didn't we?" Sam felt himself begin to panic as he tried to think, his breathing becoming harsh and rapid. He couldn't remember and he couldn't see properly, how was he going to back his brother up. He pushed his hand into his eyes in frustration.

"Hey it's over Sam, its okay just breathe. We're alright, we just gotta drive a bit to get to the hospital that's all." Dean knew he had to keep his brother calm and awake if possible. Sam's behavior seemed to be a mixture of shock and concussion but untreated for this long and mixed with exhaustion, and of course demonic mind torture - it could get complicated.

"Not far Dean. Please don't…don't drive far." Sam's voice sank to a whisper. "I can't help you."

"S'okay Sam, I know." They finally reached the paved road, then the highway and Dean sighed in relief as they picked up speed on the smooth bitumen. He had headed north and now squinted as he saw the road sign coming up, making a quick decision.

"We can make it to John Day in just over an hour." Dean wasn't sure whether he was convincing himself or Sam.

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Dean felt another shudder through his body and knew he was getting worse, whatever that meant. The hour was gone, along with most of the daylight as the shadows grew longer and the temperature dropped. He had stopped twice in the hour, once to cover Sam with a blanket to negate the cold air coming in from his window, necessary to keep him alert.

The second stop, ten minutes ago, was to check on his brother who had fallen silent and still and could not be roused. Relief flooded through him when he found a steady pulse but he knew Sam needed help. Fearful of his increasing fatigue, he popped another handful of caffeine pills into his mouth and swallowed them dry before shifting the car into gear and driving off.

He nearly missed the hospital turnoff from the highway, his thoughts switching between his anxiety for his brother to that of the hunters Bobby had warned him about. He knew this wasn't far enough away but it would have to do. He would just have to remain vigilant and move them as soon as Sam was able.

He drove the car into a parking bay right outside the main entrance, relieved there weren't many cars or people about, then tried to wake his brother again to no avail. Clumsily exiting the car, Dean staggered to the emergency doors, immediately gaining the attention of two nurses walking past.

"My brother, he's hurt. Can't wake him…"

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Dean sat in the waiting room oblivious to the guarded stares of the dozen or so people sitting scattered throughout the large area. Most just kept an eye on him, several moved away unsure of his stability given his almost wild appearance. His right knee moved up and down rapidly and his left hand constantly pulled at the hem of his shirt as his body sought an outlet for the caffeine and adrenaline high he didn't realise he was on.

Looking at his watch for what seemed like the tenth time, he tried to remind himself that it had only been twenty minutes since he had been pried away from his brother as they wheeled him into the ER. Still unconscious. Still bloodied and broken.

They had promised to come and get him soon. They had even tried to put him on a stretcher but that was not going to happen until he knew Sam was alright. He had to keep watch right now, make sure no one was hunting them. Hunting Sammy. Dean's thoughts jumbled haphazardly as his overtaxed body was pushed beyond his limits.

"Mr Addison?"

"Mr Addison are you alright?'

Dean jumped to his feet when he realised the nurse was standing right in front of him, making the older woman take a step back in surprise.

"Why don't you let the Doctor take a look at that hand now?"

Dean stared vacantly at his arm before shaking his head. "My brother, is he alright? I need to see him."

"He's stable and we're running some scans although he hasn't woken up yet. He should be in a room in the next hour. I hear you put up a bit of a fight about being treated before but I think we need to check you out now."

"No. I need to see Sam."

The nurse checked her clipboard briefly before continuing. "Okay Dean, how about we make a deal? I need to ask you some more questions about your brother and what happened, so we may as well let the Doc look at you at the same time. It won't take long and the Doc can update you on what's happening with your brother."

Dean frowned as he weighed his options. "Yeah okay. No drugs though, I can't…I don't want to be knocked out."

"Deal."

Dean took a step to follow the nurse but then found his legs wouldn't move. He felt everything slow down as both his hearing and vision dulled and he panicked when he realised he was going to pass out. It made no difference however as his body made its final protest and he hit the cold floor hard.

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_tbc…_


	10. Chapter 10

**Divided They Fall Together**

_Here lies the definitive ending…a definite end to the lies.__ lb._

**Chapter 10**

He was conscious of the warmth surrounding him at first and a floating feeling. It felt good, safe.

The white starkness as he opened his eyes however brought a sense of déjà vu associated with pain and hurt and death and he gasped instinctively for breath, clawing his way up from the depths. The thought of being in a hospital made him suddenly want to scream and he didn't even know why. He just knew he had to get out.

A hand on his arm made him jump. "Hey, calm down Dean its okay. It's over."

"Sam?' He turned his head towards the sound. His brother had a bandage across his forehead and a cut across his face and looked gaunt and worried. His eyes looked…God, his eyes. Dean remembered why they were here, what had happened and with the sudden rush of knowledge, knew they had to get out.

"Dean what're you doing. You can't just get up, you been out for hours and you still need to rest." Sam moved his hand to Dean's chest, applying enough downward pressure to make his point.

"Sam we have to go. Please just trust me, we have to leave now. Are you okay, can you walk?" Dean added when he realised his brother was sitting in a wheelchair.

"Dean, I don't understand. You're exhausted, they operated on your hand and they had to put pins in it man, it was that bad. You've got stitches in your shoulder and…"

"God Sam, they must have seen the bullet wound, they've probably called the cops. We have to leave now." He pushed his brother's hand away and sat up, trying to ignore the fact the room was spinning slightly.

"No they didn't know it was a bullet wound, Jo did a good job of disfiguring the entry wound enough so…" Sam shrugged and smiled tightly at the thought. "We don't have to go."

"Sam we don't have to go far but we need to get out of here." Dean took a breath and looked his brother in the eyes. "Are you okay enough to leave, what did they say?"

"Yeah I'm fine." Sam mumbled looking away. "Okay I'll…I'll organise it. As long as you let the doctor check you first. Okay?"

"Yeah okay.' Dean relented impatiently, knowing it was the only way he was going to win this argument in a hurry.

"Will you please tell me what's going on?" Sam was at a loss, there was obviously something he was missing. Hell, he was missing quite a few details from the past day so that should be no surprise but still…

"When we get out. Please just trust me on this Sam."

"Dean…" Sam's face was drawn with worry.

"Sammy please."

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"Mr Addison, you shouldn't be leaving so soon after surgery. Apart from the normal observation time, you'll need the pain relief. You're also suffering from exhaustion and dehydration as is your brother."

"I'll be fine Doc, I'll just get some pain meds to go okay. What about Sam what does he need?"

"I don't think you understand, the pain medication I can subscribe is not as strong as what you're getting through the IV. You'll experience localised pain where the pins were inserted as well as throughout your right arm and possibly even your shoulder from the trauma. Your left shoulder has been stitched and…"

"Yeah I get it okay, it'll hurt. What about Sam?"

The Doctor paused at the stubbornness of his patient and resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going to win this fight. He should cut his losses and at least let the boy know what to expect.

"Your brother has had thirty four stitches in his knee and he'll have to have antibiotics for the infection that has set in. You'll need to check it and make sure the dressing is changed twice a day and no further swelling occurs. If it does, he'll need to come back. He's also suffering from concussion and although we've ruled out cerebral contusion I'm still a little concerned. There has been subconjunctival hemorrhage in both eyes and we're still unsure about the cause of this, although it should have no permanent effects. He should be staying for observation, there is always a guarded prognosis in regards to head trauma particularly for the first twenty four to forty eight hours. Things can go from good to bad very quickly."

Dean took I every detail, questioning what was the lesser of two evils – leave Sammy in the hospital in case he got worse or get them somewhere safe. He figured if they stayed in town he could always bring his brother back if he needed to, that was the best compromise he could come up with given the circumstances. At least they would be harder to find.

"I get it Doc, I know what to look for and…thanks."

"Your brother needs rest and so do you. Your right hand needs complete rest and you really shouldn't be using your left arm strenuously. Your blood pressure is high as well and I'd really like to run some tests."

The Doctor paused and seemed to reach some decision before continuing. "The bruising around your neck and face is not from some hike in the woods. Whatever reason you're leaving for son, do you need help, is there anyone I can call? Are you sure about this?"

Dean looked at the older man, wishing things could be easier, that uncomplicated but…"Thanks Doc, I'm sure."

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Sam sat in the car trying to ignore the vertigo. Dean would not have asked him to do this unless it was important, he knew that. He glanced over to his brother who was hunched behind the wheel obviously trying to overcome his own pain.

"Dean, you said we wouldn't go far. You can't keep going okay?' Sam was getting worried, his brother had just had surgery and shouldn't be driving but Sam still hadn't got his full vision back and felt useless. He didn't know what was going on but he trusted his brother.

Dean didn't answer but finally pulled into a motel in the backstreets of town.

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Sam sat slowly on the motel bed dropping his crutches to the floor, his head pounding. "Dean? What's going on? Please, I need to know."

Dean looked across at Sam. "We weren't safe. Had to get out okay. M'sorry Sammy." He dumped his bag, grabbing clean jeans and underwear and walked across the room. "Rest Sam. I'm gonna grab a shower."

Dean closed the bathroom door behind him, effectively ending any further conversation. As he dropped his clothes and turned the water on he wondered how much longer he could do this, he was so tired. How was he supposed to tell Sam what was going on when he knew it would only bring the guilt and the memories back?

He searched through the pockets of his jacket until he found what he sought and threw the pills into his mouth to overcome his growing fatigue.

The water felt so good, hot, burning but he didn't care. He had just enough presence of mind to keep the plaster on his hand out of the spray. Not caring that the dressing over the fresh stitches in his left shoulder got wet. His body shook as the water mercilessly pounded the endless cuts and bruises that adorned him.

He dried his legs and somehow managed to pull clean jeans on trying to ignore the thrumming pain that seemed to be coming at him from all angles. He needed to stay alert, he knew he couldn't drive any further but hopefully they would be safe here for a while. Sammy would be safe.

Dean walked out of the bathroom, crossing the room and sitting on the unoccupied bed. He rummaged through his bag for a clean t-shirt, finding even this small task required a mammoth effort. He stilled when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Dean wait, I'm gonna have to change the dressing. You're s'posed to keep the stitches dry." Sam spoke softly as he began peeling the tape and gauze away. "Talk to me, what's this about?"

Dean closed his eyes, he was so tired but thankfully he could feel the caffeine begin to course through his system. When he opened them they fell on his brother's fatigued and worried face. Sam's eyes seemed to look through him, past any game face he could hope to pull off at the moment.

"Bobby rang." He watched the frown deepen on his brother's features. "Said there're hunters tracking the Unity job and he's not sure why. These guys are bad news Sam."

Sam lowered his gaze and shook his head. "It's because of me isn't it? You think these guys are looking for…are hunting a killer? Hunting me."

"You're not a killer Sam and I don't know what they're doing but I'm not gonna take any chances. It's not like we can sit them down and explain the situation and if it comes down to it, well we're not gonna have much choice but to deal with them. At least this way we might stay under the radar."

"What do you mean if it comes down to it Dean? I can't…" Sam shook his head and looked at his brother horrified. "Dean we can't, I won't let you have blood on your hands over this."

"You think I'd just stand by, give you over? No Sam we do what we've gotta do, this is black and white. They're either with us or against us." Dean suddenly felt like the room was closing in and he stood abruptly, sweat breaking out on his forehead and bare chest even though his hands felt cold. He couldn't sit any longer and felt the need for movement, thoughts running through his mind as though on fast forward.

"Hey sit down man I've got to cover the stitches." Sam was surprised at his brother's sudden movement.

Dean's eyes shifted to the curtained window as he heard yelling coming from the parking lot. A shadow passed by the darkened window. They were here and he wasn't ready. God he wasn't ready and they were gonna come in and kill his brother while he just stood there.

Without further thought, Dean went to the weapons bag lying at the end of their beds and awkwardly pulled a handgun out. He gestured at Sam to stay still as he silently moved to the door and switched the light off. He felt a tremor through his left hand as he held the gun, the cold air on his still damp chest making the skin rise in goosebumps. He wondered if Sam could hear his heartbeat as it became almost deafening.

Sam knew he wasn't quite with it, he felt groggy from drugs and the pain that came with concussion. He limped slowly to the end of his bed not bothering with the crutches and retrieved a gun from the bag. Knowing the weapon as soon as he grasped it, even in the dark. He backed up against the wall and waited, following his brother's lead.

Five minutes and all he could hear was distant traffic and the muted sounds of other guests going about whatever mundane tasks they were doing. Normal people doing normal things.

"Dean?"

"Dean, whoever it was has gone. I don't think it was them."

Another sound pierced the quietness of the room as his older brother's breathing became harsh, almost laboured. Dean turned the lights on and began pacing the room, gun still drawn. His broken hand clutched to his chest and the fresh stitches trickling the smallest amount of blood in a weaving line down his chest as it mixed with the water droplets on his skin.

"We gotta be careful Sammy. Just…just get some rest and I'll take first watch. S'okay I won't let them hurt you okay. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you, they'll have to go through me or over my dead body." Dean continued to pace between the window and the wall adjacent to the bathroom, broken hand now dropped almost forgotten by his side. His left hand held the gun drawn and pointed to the ceiling.

"There's no one there Dean, you're just tired and you need to rest."

"Sammy I'm not gonna rest till those sons of bitches are all dead. They're coming after you and we've gotta be ready." Dean's movement didn't cease as he stared at his brother, trying to bring order to the confusion of jumbled thoughts in his head. He couldn't understand why Sam was acting this way, doubting him. He wished the ache in his right arm wouldn't hurt so much, wished he couldn't feel the pain throbbing down through his fingertips.

"What? No Dean, I need to redress your shoulder and you need to calm down." Sam was beyond worried now, maybe heading somewhere between alarmed and panicked. He understood Dean was trying to protect him but his brother's behavior was too erratic almost…manic.

"Calm down? We need to deal with this and then get you somewhere safe until…"

"Until what? Until it all blows over, until it's forgotten or until it happens again? I don't think there's anyone out there Dean but even if there was…I'm guilty. I killed a man and I didn't stop it from happening and you can't change that now." Sam took a breath, finishing his train of thought barely above a whisper. "It's done."

Dean stopped dead in his tracks. "But it's not over Sam. It's not over and we're going to get through this and I…"

Sam watched his brother, almost mesmerised by the complete lack of movement and thoughtful look on his brother's face. It was as though this inner process required both a mental and physical effort.

"You what Dean?" Sam prompted gently as Dean seemed to become lost inside his own head.

"I just want to be your brother." Dean almost looked surprised as the words whispered out of his mouth. As though he had overlooked or misjudged that the answer to it all was such a simple concept.

Sam nodded, steeling his jaw and swallowing around the lump in his throat. Dean had just given him everything he couldn't ask for, everything that he thought he could never have back. In those few words Sam understood that Dean didn't hate him, didn't blame him and most importantly, was giving him the one thing he realised he didn't have without his brother.

Hope.

"Well…I guess I'm gonna be okay then." Sam closed his eyes for a second but couldn't help the grin as he answered. As everything suddenly fell into place for him.

"Hell yeah Sammy. You're gonna be okay." His voice soft almost broken.

Sam's grin faded and for a second he looked like a lost boy almost too afraid to ask a question he might not want answered. "Are you gonna be okay Dean?" Sam remembered the nightmares and pain. He remembered this was not something Dean usually shared with him.

Sam held his breath as his older brother seemed to take a minute to contemplate the answer instead of giving the usual automated all clear response.

"Yeah." Dean's gaze shifted and briefly met the intensity of his brother's focus. "Yeah Sam I think I am."

A pause. "Except…" The corner of his mouth twitched a little.

"What?" Completely at a loss.

"I feel like freakin climbing the walls and Bobby's gonna kill me cause I haven't called him back yet. Oh and did I mention I could climb the freakin walls?"

Sam thought for a minute as Dean resumed his pacing after placing his gun on the table. "Oh God you haven't been popping NoDoz?" Sam thought back to the last time Dean had overdosed on the caffeine tablets and had been sleepless and wired for days only to become lethargic then sink into an obscenely bad mood. It explained the manic.

Dean thought back to the last time he had done this when Sam had threatened to tie him up and make him travel in the trunk. "Maybe." Well it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

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Sam slept. Dean stood guard.

He felt wired but in control. Sam had been relentless until Dean had given in and allowed him to play nurse, checking, redressing and categorizing every single wound that covered his body it seemed. Down to the bruises around his neck and body inflicted by Sam's own hands. At least the painkillers had finally taken the edge off the ache in his hand and shoulder even if they hadn't negated the effect of the caffeine in his system. He would just have to wait that out.

Dean allowed himself a smile. They were going to be alright.

Sam had succumbed to the headache and drowsiness brought on by pain and medication but not until after he had talked some more and said his peace. And made Dean talk. Damn caffeine had only loosened his tongue further and that was the excuse he was gonna stick to if the subject was broached ever again.

As he paced the room he heard the beep of his phone as it protested its low charge and demanded attention, reminding him he was also gonna have to call Bobby soon as well. He saw the icon on the screen and realised he had never listened to the voicemail messages left for him by his brother. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

He listened now.

"_Dean where are you – call me back. I need to know you're okay."_

"_Dean I'm sorry man. I'm sorry. Please don't do anything. Please come and get me and we'll finish this together. Don't you do this Dean, y'hear me? You don't do this without me or I swear I'll kick your ass."_

"_Dean I know you're hurt. It was an elf shot so you need help. Please call me, I'm worried man. I'm on my way to the cave but I need to find you. Please man, call me. Please Dean, let me help you."_

He closed his eyes hearing the desperate voice of his brother. Filling in the gaps of when the calls were made when Sam woke up, when he read the letter, when he found the arrow.

He took a breath as he looked at the sleeping form of his younger brother, exhausted but safe. Things between them were healing, they were gonna be alright. Dean felt good even though his own body continued on its struggle to mend and recover. Even though they were still in danger.

For the first time in an eternity Dean felt something close to peace, felt like he was home.

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Sam stood watch as Dean slept.

Finally.

It was their second night at the motel and this was the first time his brother had actually fallen into a deep sleep.

At least Bobby had given them the all clear when Dean had finally got the guts to call him back. After some inventive expletives which raised even Dean's eyebrows, he let them know that the hunters had been distracted by another job which seemed to have conveniently come up. He also let them know that they had no business making him wait to see if they were alright and not dead in some ditch. Not that he was worried about them or anything.

Sam watched the still bruised face of his older sibling, wondering how long it would take for the darkness beneath his eyes to fade or the latest wounds to heal or scar.

Dean's hand would need further treatment to remove the pins but there should be no complications provided he looked after it. Sam had already made a mental note to ensure this was top priority and would do whatever it took to make sure his brother took it easy for the next few weeks. A smile touched his face as he realised he had one card up his sleeve that would work. His knee was on the mend but it would have a sudden relapse if that was the only way to make Dean stop.

He made a cup of instant coffee and sat down at the table, propping his leg up on the spare chair and clearing a space for the laptop. He may as well check out some place to rest up in for a few weeks, somewhere there would be no ghosts or monsters or witches. If a place like that actually existed, he thought with sigh.

As Sam waited for the computer to come to life, his eyes wandered over to his phone sitting on top of his wallet. He squinted at the small display and pressed a button to light up the screen noticing he had voicemail. He listened to the message.

"_Hey Sammy just thought I'd return your calls and I'll answer in order so your little brain doesn't get confused. To start with, I'm okay. Actually I'm pretty damn okay right now. Secondly, you are not capable of kicking my ass little brother so get over it. Lastly, when I'm feeling up for it I am gonna beat the crap outta you for being a freakin' blood sacrifice and then we could probably…I don't know, just shoot some pool and have a coupla beers. You're buying of course." _

_A pause._

"_Bitch."_

Sam smiled. If Dean were awake to see, he would have thought that it lit up the room.

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_**The End.**_

_a/n: As always, thanx for reading – hope you enjoyed the story._

_And as always, thanx to those that continually drop by to comment and encourage._

_lb._


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